


True Confessions of Desperate Teenage Boys

by the_mythologist



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drama, Humor, Multi, One of them in public, Romance, Some couples are going to be getting some, Straight and Bent Love, Surprise uke, The importance of proper communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_mythologist/pseuds/the_mythologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When disasters occur in the form of unchaperoned parties, four of Japan's best basketball players resort to drastic measures in order to make sense of it all. A series of misadventures and individual tales of love, wrapped up neatly with a happy ending. </p><p>(Wherein Miorima is a romantic, Kuroko is horny, Kagami has a surprising amount of depth, and Takao is wily.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Incident - Kagami's Party

Parties at Kagami’s apartment had gradually become a thing following the end of their second winter cup. That was the year that Seirin and Touou had both been knocked out of the finals by Shuutoku and Rakuzan, respectively, and between Momoi, Takao and Kiyoshi’s finagling (the latter came back as assistant coach during his third year of high school) the Generation of Miracles, their partners, and select Seirin team members all ended up at Kagami’s apartment, carousing until dawn. Since then it became something of a weekly gathering, although members of Rakuzan and Yousen came much less frequently. Still, on any given Friday evening, it was more than likely that one would find Kagami cooking for at least Kise, Aomine, Momoi and Kuroko, if not also Midorima, Takao, and members of the Seirin team. If someone brought something contraband - beer, sake, or on one memorable occasion imported tequila - then they’d all stay a bit later. If not, they simply piled in on Kagami’s couch, and watched NBA and JBA games until fights broke out. These were largely settled on the basketball court three streets over from Kagami’s apartment, or when that didn’t work, through Kuroko’s divine mandate.

Things were good. Aomine was happier than he’d been for the past three years; Momoi continually sought for courage to confess to Kuroko; Midorima had allowed himself to soften into a vaguely likable being - with Takao’s help, of course; and Kise, while no less annoying, had dimmed the sparkles down considerably. Most importantly, Kuroko had regained his middle school friendships, yet with the addition of a light that he knew would never leave him, and Kagami was simply happy that everyone else seemed to be doing ok.

Then came the night that Alex cashed in on her blackmail; Kagami was publicly debauched, and Kuroko and Midorima finally saw eye to eye on something.

Horrific as it was, it all began like this.

…

…

…

Kise was almost always the first one to get drunk, although in his defense it was difficult to tell - his flamboyance was practically a force of nature, and the only real indicator was that extra half an inch on his smile. The night _it_ happened it was no different. He was in the corner chatting up Murasakibara and Himuro, hoping to have an intelligible conversation about fashion in the United States. Kagami, who stood by the monochrome look with a steadfast passion was clearly not the right person to approach. Later, he would attest that Himuro seemed to drink no more or less than usual, and there had been no sign of the impending disaster. For once, Murasakibara would agree. From both their accounts, Himuro simply sidestepped Kise in the middle of an impassioned query about plaid and sashayed on over to the couch, where Aomine and Kagami were in the middle of a discussion about the merits of eating meat three times a day. Moving with all his usual grace, he settled onto Kagami’s lap, locking his knees around his ‘younger brother’s’ hips. Before Kagami could do anything other than look over in surprise, Himuro proceeded to initiate the most heated, passionate, and heartfelt kiss anyone present had ever witnessed.

The party screeched to a stop, with all mouths and eyes - Kagami’s included - wide open in shock. Yet if Himuro minded Kagami’s lack of response he was doing an excellent job ignoring it. The rest of the party goers, however, had very decided opinions on the unexpected state of affairs.

In a move more eloquent than anything he could have said, Aomine immediately toppled backwards over the shoulder of the couch. This caught Momoi’s attention, who had been in the middle of sharing an amazed look with her sometime enemy, Aida. Yet even as she bent down to ostensibly check on her childhood friend, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the spectacle on the couch. It was for data-gathering purposes, after all. _Oh yes it was._

On the other side of the room, Akashi froze. “Oh my,” he murmured, too well-bred to voice any thoughts he might entertain on the unsuitableness of such a pairing, or of such _enthusiasm_ in pursuing it. Beside him, Takao made noises that sounded suspiciously like choked back laughter, and his eyes watered at the thought of Midorima’s reaction that he would undoubtedly hear all about on their rickshaw ride home.

Kise, truth be told, felt a little hurt. Wasn’t _he_ pretty enough to be kissed so thoroughly? Himuro was a devastatingly attractive man, but Kagami? Those eyebrows! Just what was the appeal? Deciding there was no accounting for taste, he merely folded his arms and lidded his eyes, so that no one else might notice him enjoying the view every bit as much as Momoi was.

Murasakibara’s reaction was simultaneously the most straightforward and the least helpful. “Muro-chiiiiiiin. You can’t eat _people!_ ” Whereas Hyuuga, having just walked out of the bathroom, took one look at Aida’s face, Kagami’s predicament, and the goggling bystanders, and walked right back in.

“ _Mmmmmm.”_ Himuro hummed in pleasure and Kagami, whose deepening flush was conversely proportional with the panic in his eyes, began making muffled, high-pitched squeaks. It was this noise that drew both Kuroko and Midorima’s attention, who were loitering in the kitchen in an unsuccessful effort to get along.

The plastic cup that Kuroko was holding slipped from his nerveless fingers, and Midorima watched its descent until it hit the floor, spilling water everywhere. The shooting guard hadn’t seen Kuroko look this _defeated_ for years, but he was reminded of how uncomfortable it was when he watched his expression crumble and heard him whisper, “No. No, he _can’t.”_

It was at that moment - less than thirty seconds since the kiss was initiated - that Kagami found the wherewithal to shove Himuro from his person, inhale deeply, declare his intentions to murder Alexandra Garcia if it was the last thing he did, and stalk into his bedroom to retrieve his cell phone and make good on his threat. In his absence, all eyes turned to Himuro, who sat on the floor grinning like a pleased cat. He stood, and with a graceful shrug made his way back over to Murasakibara, who looked down at him with no small amount of disapproval.

Himuro laughed. “Oh, calm _down,_ Atsushi. It was all Alex’s idea. You know how she is. Besides, she found out about the time I...well. Let’s just say I’m currently quite drunk. I won’t even remember this come tomorrow. ”

As if to prove one half of his point, Kagami’s voice drifted through his door, sounding distinctly unhappy. “ _Just because it’s funny is no excuse, Alexandra!”_

Neither of which lessened Murasakibara’s pout. “He doesn’t even look _tasty.”_

Himuro chuckled and patted the titan’s arm. “No, not tasty, per se. It’s not a flavor you’d like, I’m sure.”

At this, Takao could take no more and laughed out loud, braving Akashi’s and Aida’s identical, displeased glares. The din carried into the kitchen, and covered up the sound of Kuroko’s teeth grinding together. Midorima glanced over at Kuroko’s emotionless facade and knew it was masking his rage. And he knew with the same certainty of his shots’ success - Kuroko entertained feelings for his power forward. After a moment of watching all the players in the living room converge on either Himuro or Kagami (who had made his way out of his bedroom shaking his head and muttering in English) and measuring up the danger in his projected course, Midorima leaned over and in a detached, off-hand tone - as if they were calmly discussing the weather - admitted, “You know, I’ve been in love with _my_ partner for about a year, now.”

Kuroko’s head whipped around so quickly Midorima could hear his neck crack. Admitting his feelings was more embarrassing than he’d anticipated, however, and so he avoided Kuroko’s searching eyes by staring at the scene unfolding in front of them.

For his own part, Kuroko was having a difficult time comprehending Midorima’s admission, especially when it followed on the heels of That Horrific Display. “You what? With...him? Why?” And then, after a moment’s further contemplation, “ _What?”_

Midorima shoved his glasses so far up the bridge of his nose they threatened to leave indents on his eyebrows. “You heard what I said. And I certainly cannot tell you why as I don’t know the answer to that myself. But I trust you’ll keep it to yourself, seeing as how you are in a similar situation. I just thought such knowledge may be of...assistance to you.”

Now Kuroko had to deal with the strain of having just watched Kagami (passively, unhappily) be kissed; the shock of discovering Midorima had the capability to love, _and_ that he cared for Kuroko enough as a friend to worry for his present state of mind. Therefore, he was not at his best when he responded. “You’re wrong - I’m not...I’m not in love with anyone. And you...with him? You’re admitting it?”

Midorima scoffed. “There’s no point in hiding it, Kuroko. Why else would you be standing in a puddle, looking as if you’d just lost the Winter Cup?” Kuroko belatedly looked down at his hands, as if just now realizing he had dropped his cup. Then he scowled, taking offense at Midorima’s matter-of-fact tone. “It is an expression I recognize, and one I never thought you’d wear for _him._ Still, misery loves company, or so they say. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“Misery? But how could Takao spend that much time with you - how could he _stand_ you- if he didn’t reciprocate?”

Midorima humphed, but there was no real feeling in it. “That was uncalled for, Kuroko. And I suppose he finds me pleasant to interact with, as well he should. Please stop making that expression. I can be perfectly charming when I want to be.”

“And are you charming when you make him drive you around on your rickshaw?”

“He rarely complains. Although he may tend to the masochistic, I have wondered…”

Kuroko glanced over at Shuutoku’s point guard, who was currently grilling Himuro for details, snapping pics on his cell phone like an overenthusiastic journalist. He kept his eyes firmly trained on that corner of the room, not wanting to look at Kagami. “I suppose he’d have to be, given the situation. It would be proven if he ever returned your affections; your family being how they are. I trust they have no idea about you?”

Midorima shivered. “Of course not! And they won’t. There’s no reason to, after all. Takao seems quite happy with his pattern of spastic dating; attending those ridiculous group events that no doubt end in incorrect cell phone numbers and drunken indiscretions at the back of the karaoke booth. And before you ask, I won’t be telling him, either. You understand.”

And Kuroko did. The thought of telling Kagami that he lay awake at night thinking about the flex of his muscles underneath his hands or how it would taste when licking his...spine from base to tip nearly brought on an uncharacteristic panic attack. It would be the same for Midorima, who was just as reserved as Kuroko, and a tsundere to boot. That brought to mind…”How are you handling this so well? Isn’t it painful to see...him doing all those things? Isn’t it painful to see _him?”_

The shooting guard adjusted his glasses, yet not in order to hide his expression, but so that he wouldn’t have to look at his partner - who had moved on over to Kagami, and whatever he was saying made him blush as red as his hair - over the dark rim of his glasses. “Sometimes, yes. But it would be worse not to.”

Takao chose that precise moment to turn and look for him, laughter dancing in his eyes. “Shin-chan! What, are you hiding in there?” Disregarding his noble mission to make Kagami flush, he bounded over to the kitchen door. He stopped right before the slowly spreading pool of water, and although his eyes couldn’t miss it, he didn’t ask. “Ah, hello, Kuroko. Did you guys see? What a spectacle, huh? I think Aomine is having a panic attack or something...although it’s better than Kise and Momoi, frankly. I think they liked it a little too much.” He winked, ignoring Kuroko’s bland expression, and Kuroko was thankful that he hadn’t seemed to see through it.

“Takao, make your goodbyes. We will be leaving soon.”

The point guard pursed his lips in a mock pout. “Awwwww, Shin-chan! It’s not even Eleven-”

“ _Takao._ Our host is clearly indisposed. It’s only polite that we end this evening’s visit a little early.” And then, as if he realized just how kind he was being, “I also desire some shiruko. Travesty that Kagami does not stock it aside, we should go procure some.”

Kuroko and Takao both stared at Shuutoku’s ace for a moment, but where Kuroko was thrown by the consideration, Takao merely smiled, taking it in stride. “Of course, Ace-sama. I’ll go get our coats.” With a smile at Kuroko, he turned to go.

With both of their attention on the retreating point guard, neither noticed Kagami watching them, narrow-eyed and thoughtful.

Kuroko turned back to his ex-teammate. “He’s certainly very helpful. Obliging, one could say. You’ve never thought about taking advantage of that?”

Midorima’s eyes widened, surprised that Kuroko could think so ruthlessly. Then he remembered any number of occasions in middle school where he had tortured Kise and Aomine. On second thought, he merely wondered why they still wanted to be friends with him so badly. “Of course not. The end result wouldn’t justify the means. Yet the same could be asked of you - although obliging isn’t the term I’d use for your partner. Idiot comes to mind.”

“That was unkind, Midorima-kun.

He harrumphed. “What, that he’s an idiot or that I’d consider you taking advantage of him?”

“...Both.”

Any further conversation was interrupted by Takao’s returning. They took their leave with a cheerful wave (Takao) and a stiff nod (Midorima) and in short order Kuroko was left standing alone in the kitchen, still refusing to make his way into the living room. By this point he knew his odd behavior must have garnered some attention - someone was bound to notice he was hiding. He would simply have to assert that he’d been there the entire time, and insinuate that everyone’s ability to sense him was getting rusty.

Besides, he had a water spill to clean up. Just as Coach lay into Hyuuga about letting their baby get mauled ( _“His innocence was taken, Hyuuga!” “And just what do you want me to do about it? Give it back? Argh! We’re leaving, Aida!”)_ Kuroko cast about the kitchen for a towel. Several hung on the stove’s handle, and after retrieving one, he bent to clean the spill.

With every stroke he reassured himself. He would get over this. He would, he would, he would…

Back in the living room, just as the situation had regained some level of normalcy, Aomine belatedly yelled, “What the fuck was that?!”

…

…

…

…

...

 

Kuroko and his insatiable curiosity lasted two days. No matter how uncomfortable it may prove, he had to know: how had someone like Midorima fallen for someone like Takao? At the very least, it took his mind off his own impossible crush on his light - whom he had avoided since the party, for what he hoped was less than obvious reasons. At best, however, it could provide insight on how he could deal with his unquenchable affections for Kagami. Regardless, there must be something he could learn from Midorima, and so in a rare move, he texted his ex-teammate and invited him for tea at a shop he remembered Midorima frequenting, back in middle school. They’d served that horrid shiruko that Kuroko had spent hours making fun of back with Aomine and Kise, but now he’d use to his advantage. Midorima wouldn’t turn him down. He just knew it.

He was proven correct before he entered the shop. Through the window he saw Midorima sitting at a lone table, attired in his usual attempt at camouflage - the dark glasses. As if it would hide his 6’5” frame, or that shocking hair color. Couldn’t he wear a hat, or something? Well, he shouldn’t judge him. Not everyone could operate under the radar as well as he.

Using misdirection, he slid into the seat opposite Midorima’s while he wasn’t looking, and then waited for his ex-teammate to turn back around.

“ _Bleargh-”_ Midorima choked on his shiruko, and had they not been in public, would have spat it right back out. When he was no longer in danger of choking, he glowered at his friend. “Can’t you simply announce your presence like a normal human being?”

Kuroko smiled. “No. Now, I’ve called you here today-”

“To talk about our impossible attractions to our best friends. Yes. That was obvious.”

Kuroko’s eyes narrowed, and Midorima was in imminent danger of being jabbed in the ribs. “And yet you came. Does that mean you want to talk about these things? With me? Midorima-kun, I am honored.”

The shooting guard winced, but held firm. “The same holds true to you. You did invite me, after all. Now, I have given this a lot of thought, and have come to a decision. We should talk about it. I’ve heard such things are therapeutic. And we don’t have to worry about betraying each other’s confidences, as no one would believe we’d ever confided to each other in the first place. More so, it would likely be beneficial to converse, as we are the only two we know in this kind of position. Your thoughts?”

Kuroko tended to forget that while it was aggravating dealing with Midorima, he was also quite intelligent. He had cut through to the heart of the matter adroitly, and saved Kuroko having to volunteer his own explanations. “I agree. I admit I am rather curious about your connection with your point guard. If I may ask...when did it begin?”

Midorima rubbed the bridge of his nose, dislodging his sunglasses.

“Also, will you please take those off? It is quite disconcerting to speak to you with them on. Besides they aren’t hiding anything.”

Midorima frowned, but acquiesced. His fingers returned to the bridge of his nose and Kuroko wondered if it was a nervous reaction. “In regards to that, I had an idea. Perhaps it might be best for us both to tell our stories, and then to ask questions after? That way we both have ample opportunity to explain ourselves. It is only fair that way.”

“I doubt that Midorima-kun would be interested in my ‘story’-”

“Then I’m not telling mine. A story for a story.”

Kuroko reflected. Could he actually do this? Could he be honest with Midorima about his longterm affections for Kagami? It went against his instincts, to talk like this with Midorima. Yet it was as he said - they had nothing to lose. No one would believe Midorima if he said anything, and Kuroko sincerely doubted that he would. He was annoying, but never dishonorable...and neither was Kuroko. Finally, he nodded. “All right. But I warned you. I’m not sure how _proper_ my story will be.”

“Due to the content, I’m sure neither of our tales would pass muster with anyone of...a more traditional persuasion. Still. Would you like to go first, or shall I?”

“You, please. Then I can order something while I listen.”

“If you insist. Ahem. I have always been quiet, observant…”

 


	2. The First Tale: Midorima Shintarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Confession

Shintarou had always been quiet; observant. He’d rather spend his time in solitude than waste it on meaningless gossip, or otherwise uncomfortable social interactions - he’d never had the knack for catching the flow and tone of other’s conversations, and he’d come to terms with his inadequacies early on. So when he’d been partnered up with Takao Kazunari, the only other freshman good enough for the first string of Shuutoku’s basketball team, he’d been more than a little dismayed. The point guard talked non-stop, and it was full of the pointless nothings and obscure jokes that drove Shintarou spare. For the first week or two he was sure Takao would end up dropping the sport entirely, or that he would end up killing him in a fit of rage. It was a particularly tense moment when Takao decided, for no apparent reason at all, to dub him _Shin-chan._ It was not to be borne. No matter how much talent the boy had on the court - and Shintarou grudgingly admitted that while he was no Akashi, he _did_ have potential - it could never make up for the sheer annoyance of Takao’s chatter.

Yet by the third week Takao was not only still hanging in there, he had been elevated to being acore member of the starting squad. Now that it was unfeasible to engineer the death of the only point guard in school with any real skill, Shintarou resigned himself to selective deafness. It didn’t help that they were in the same class, and that their teacher was an alumni of Shuutoku, and had even played basketball during his time here. Their sensei sat Takao directly in front of him, in an order to build team unity. Shintarou could have strangled the man. Now all day long, it was _Shin-chan, Shin-chan, Shin-chan!_ Still, he was gradually getting used to his teammate’s effervescence, and the discovery of Takao’s special skill had only helped matters.

The team had noticed their point guard’s uncanny ability to precisely judge where every player on the court was, as well as the ball, and the most likely threats. He had never telegraphed a pass, and had more steals than the rest of the team combined. Yet it was not until the practice where Takao had sent him three uninterrupted passes in a row - the last was when Shintarou had been triple-teamed by their three senpai- that Shintarou figured it out.

 _Mom calls it the hawkeye_ , Takao had laughingly informed him, ducking an arbitrarily thrown pineapple. It was less than a month in and the freshman were already somewhat used to their upperclassmen’s eccentricities. _And just you wait, Shin-chan. I’ll show you how useful it can be._

In the meantime, the entire team learned that Takao was currently in possession of his Uncle’s rickshaw when Ootsubo-senpai came in from a meeting with Nakatani-sensei and asked about the contraption parked outside, tethered to the back of a bike. Takao had laughingly (was the man never serious? Shintarou suspected some kind of malfunction in his parasympathetic nervous system) owned up to it, and spun some tale of delivering his mother’s old couch to a neighbor? Relative? Shintarou couldn’t be bothered to listen to all of it. Truthfully, it was more shocking that anything Takao said penetrated at _all,_ given the usual nature of his blithering. This time, however, he found himself comparing his weight to that of a couch, and calculating the endurance of his teammate’s calf muscles. If Takao was going to drive him half mad with his inane chatter, _and_ impede on his extra practice time, he might as well make it worth his while. Yet how to tell Takao that he had just become his personal servant? For the first time since they had met, Takao made Shintarou smile...although it was only when the ace considered being drawn about in a rickshaw.

A week later, however (after their servant-master relationship was firmly established and Takao’s legs had bulked up nearly ¼ inch in diameter) he had been forced to acknowledge his teammate’s dedication and inexplicable challenge. _I’ll throw you a roaring pass_ , he had promised, when it was just the two of them after practice. Shintarou had been too confused to do anything other than look at him oddly, and for the first time realized that while he may not understand Takao, the man certainly wasn’t being silly. The awareness made him uncomfortable - after all, he didn’t understand Takao about 80% of the time. How much of him was truly worthless? Shintarou had already owned his social inadequacies, and was forced to (grudgingly) admit that Takao was a social butterfly. Perhaps it was not that _Takao_ was ridiculous, it was that Shintarou was simply too socially uneducated to understand?

The next morning’s interaction ( _some twittering on his lucky item, of all things. Takao had grown acclimated to his lucky items quite early on, although he never passed up the opportunity to laugh at them. Still, Takao’s scolding him on the impropriety of waving around an unopened pack of boxers seemed a bit much coming from the man who by third period was wearing one of them on his head_ ) cured him of all his fears. Takao was an idiot, albeit with enough talent and dedication that made him _just_ worthy of Shintarou’s notice. That isolated moment of maturity was just that, and not likely to happen again. After all, there was very little chance of Shintarou’s recognizing _him_ , especially off the court.

...

Then came the day he discovered Takao was a Scorpio. It had begun like all the others: morning practice; a quick shower in the locker room; the team making fun of his lucky item (the fools). Yet this time, Takao had only picked up the stuffed owl, and mused thoughtfully. His little sister was a Cancer, apparently, and he thought she would find something like this cute. Where had he gotten it? Oh, the crane game, of course. Then, with a small smile, he had asked what the lucky item was for Scorpios.

Shintarou had been taken aback. He had known Takao for almost three months, now, and spent what felt like excruciating amounts of time with him. Yet he had never asked about the boy’s zodiac sign, and their positions as point and shooting guard alone warranted that. Mortified, he had told him - a toothbrush - and then assured him that Scorpios were ranked 5th today, and he had nothing to worry about.

He hadn’t understood why Takao’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, nor why Miyaji eyed them dangerously. He also didn’t understand why a small knot of tension in his shoulders loosened when Takao thanked him. Of course, it was a good thing that Takao was a compatible - a _highly_ compatible - star sign with his own. Perhaps it was the reason why the point guard was still alive, even after all the embarrassment and annoyance he had put Shintarou through. Yet why would Takao’s being a Scorpio make him want to smile? It was ridiculous. _Ridiculous._

The inexplicable good mood lasted through lunch, when on his solitary way to the rooftop - the one time they spent apart, as Takao would often eat with friends from other homerooms - he overheard students whispering about him. _Oddball,_ and _Giant,_ and most cutting, _Freak._ Others would ask: _does he always have those little toys with him? What is he, five?_ Shintarou had long grown used to those comments; by this time they were simply another layer to his environment, like white noise in the background of an old film. What he was not used to was his teammate hearing them, as Takao’s smiles acted as an unknowing buffer to the most vitriolic whisperers. Yet today, Takao had been passing through in the opposite direction. Upon hearing the not-so-whispered asides, he had glanced up at Shintarou’s face the way he would on the rare occasions he would miss a shot, and spun right back around. _Mind your own business,_ he had told them, angrier than Shintarou had ever seen him. _But if you have something to say, you’d best be prepared to say it to my face._ Stunned, Shintarou hadn’t resisted when Takao dragged him up to the roof, where he’d spent the remainder of his lunch period asking him odd questions about how long such bullying had gone on, and why hadn’t he stopped them, and why hadn’t he _told_ him? It was this that brought Shintarou back to his senses. _Why would I tell you?_ He had asked, and was still too flustered to make his tone as severe as he would have liked.

Takao had simply shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of _stupid Shin-chan. I’m_ that _easy to ignore, am I? Don’t be such a tsundere._...s _tupid Shin-chan._ After that, however, Takao ate lunch with him everyday, fobbing off his other friends with his characteristic good humor, and a hastily slung arm around Shintarou’s shoulder.

He always waited an extra moment before shrugging it off, assuring himself that the only reason he let it hang there was because the angle of it would undoubtedly be painful.

...

These state of affairs continued, and by the time the Winter Cup rolled around (their first, just to set the story straight), there was no more helping it. Takao had wedged himself so firmly into Shintarou’s life that he no longer made any attempt to get him out. He told himself that it was simply an extension of their master-servant dynamic, but there were times when he forgot about that for hours at a time. Practicing on outdoor courts after dark, watching basketball tapes in the clubroom after school, studying and lounging at Takao’s house after practice, and even excursions to procure lucky items all became something _else_ when Takao was involved. Practice became fun, and he found his lips twitching into momentary smiles that flattened back down when Takao’s hawkeyes honed in on them. Watching recordings and studying became...well, in a word, more _useful_ than doing so on his own, as Takao was surprisingly intelligent, and Shintarou became used to considering his opinions. And lucky item runs became all out shopping trips, where Shintarou would find himself thrust into a changing room with modern outfits he would _never_ be allowed to wear home, and grudgingly admitted that thanks to his uncommon stature, he looked quite good in a waistcoat and tie. Not good enough to warrant Takao’s snapping pictures of him like he was some kind of model, but still. It was flattering, to say the least.

All throughout, Shintarou had become so immured to Takao’s silliness and non-stop talking that it began to feel strange when it wasn’t present. On the rare occasions that Takao missed school - once for a cold, and the other to attend his grandmother’s funeral - felt long and boring and slow, even though nothing had changed but the lack of Takao’s presence.

Basketball practice those days was more of a relief than usual, as here it was impossible not to admit how Takao’s absence affected him - especially in terms of practicing their special move. (Shintarou had broken down and told first his partner, and then their team of Akashi’s mastery, and of his own special ability. Takao had been notably subdued, and it was enough to vaguely worry Shintarou, who had come to regard the point guard’s perky cheer as an immutable law of the universe. Yet he had come back the next day with a light in his [hawk]eyes that Shintarou hadn’t seen since the day he had told Shintarou he’d make him acknowledge him. _There must be something we can do_ , he had said. _Whatever it is, I will do it. We will beat him. We will win.)_

Yet at that point there was no time or energy left over to reflect on how large Takao’s presence was in his life. The Winter Cup came and went, and the initial preparations and subsequent heartbreak were enough to chase all the thoughts of Takao’s wide smile and slanted eyes out of his head. For a time, there were only the thoughts of failure and another chance and wondering if this was how backsliding felt to occupy himself.

...

It was a month after that terrible Winter Cup that Takao beat him him on a test for the first and (hopefully) only time in their high school careers. Shintarou had been mortified - the rolling pencil had let him down! So much so that Takao had beaten him by two whole points! And Cancer had ranked noticeably higher than Scorpio on that morning’s Oha Asa broadcast! He had pouted all that morning, although no one had noticed but Takao. His partner had retaliated with his saddest faces and whiniest pleas, practically clinging to him as they moved from classroom to classroom. ( _C’mon, Shin-chan! Tell me what I did wrong! I can’t apologize if I don’t know what it is I did! Pllleeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Princess Shin-chan!)_ But Shintarou had held firm, only once noting the improbability of Takao beating him on an exam that he hadn’t even studied for.

All at once, Takao’s whinging demeanor disappeared (the little snake), and an odd, almost regretful expression passed over his face, like a cloud below the sun. Yet then he had shrugged and said in his most matter-of-fact tone that his ex-girlfriend in middle school had tutored him on the subject, ad nauseum. ( _It would be weirder if I hadn’t beaten you - not to mention the rest of the class. My ex spent hours on this one subject, as it was the only part of the curriculum I couldn’t understand, and she was determined to get me into the same elite school as her. Didn’t happen, of course, as here I am, with Shin-chan. Playing basketball. With Shin-chan. Is this why you’ve been mad all morning? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll beat me on the next one. But let’s never fight again, ok, Shin-chan? Shin-chan? C’mon, smile for me, Shin-chan!)_

Shintarou hadn’t known what face to make. The thought of Takao with a girl - with anyone else, really - had never occurred to him. For some reason, he couldn’t make sense of it. Unsettled, he had murmured something that he hoped was appropriate, although by the veiled concern in his partner’s vaunted eyes he wasn’t sure he had succeeded. It was proven when Takao’s head tilted to the side and he responded. _Miss her? Not really. She was a good girl, but it was a long time ago._

 _Ah,_ Shintarou had adroitly responded. (So _that_ was what he had said? What was he, a middle school girl?) _And you don’t miss being a boyfriend?_ Oh Asa only knew what he actually meant with that, because Shintarou’s head was spinning and all he could focus on was his left index finger, and how there was a slight, imperfect overlap in his taping. That would annoy him all day, no doubt, yet it was safer to focus on that than Takao and his knowing eyes, and the way they made him this discombobulated.

The point guard seemed to understand, however, as he huffed a little laugh as he slumped over Shintarou’s desk (as he was prone to do, and it annoyed Shintarou as well but just this once he’d let him get away with it because he was feeling charitable and quite possibly losing his mind). Miyaji-senpai _really needs to stop putting ideas in your head, Shin-chan. Don’t listen to him about this kind of thing. Having a significant other is nice and all, but now isn’t the time - especially if you really liked them. ‘Cuz then you’d want to spend all your time with them, and there’d be no way to make that work between basketball, your studies, and hanging out with me, because obviously that’s important too, even if you keep calling me your servant when we go out in public…_ He kept going, but Shintarou had been friends with him long enough to know when it was safe to tune him out. Besides, he needed to think. This was an unexpected level of maturity for Takao, especially when faced with their senpai’s endless whining about the wonder of the female body, and illicit companionship. The fact that Takao had come to terms with himself emotionally and perhaps sexually as well was unnerving. It simply did not fit with the boy who smirked and simpered; hung upon Shintarou’s body like a trained monkey, and gossiped like a middle-aged housewife. Nor did it reflect the prankster that would tempt fate just to laugh at his and his senpai’s shocked expression, even when it ended in (both of them) running for their lives from pineapple missiles. No, he could not imagine _that_ Takao with someone, holding her hand and professing his love, opening doors on dates, and studying with her and sneaking kisses - if not more - in the safety of his bedroom.

Yet there was a side of Takao he _could_ imagine doing those things, and it was the Takao that looked him dead in the eye and told him he would work harder than him, throw him that roaring pass, and make Shintarou acknowledge him. And if this ex-girlfriend had seen _that…_ Well. Just the remembrance of Takao acting as such to _him_ made his heart thump irregularly against his ribcage, and heat flood his cheeks. It would have been devastating to _her_.

Shintarou was unable to focus for the rest of the day, and was incapable of taking any notes at all. He missed 6% more of his shots than usual, and while the rest of the team was mollified by excuses (lies) of a sore elbow, Shintarou was not. Why should it matter that Takao had once had a girlfriend? All the current girls in their class sighed over him constantly, nancing on about how _perfect_ he was, and how _calm, considerate, and charming_ he was, _not to mention patient, as he spent all day with Midorima-kun._ He was, they claimed, the very definition of a high spec boyfriend (whatever _that_ silly term denoted) and if he hadn’t made it quite clear already that he had no time for relationships _(no offense to anyone of them, of course_ ) they would have all confessed in droves.

Shintarou had long come to terms with Takao’s inexplicable popularity. The existence of an ex-girlfriend was something different, however, especially as she had liked him enough to try and drag him along to whatever high school she had attended, and he had liked her enough to try. That betokened not just knowledge that Shintarou had never desired to acquire, but skill. Takao, apparently, was a good boyfriend. Oha Asa knew why, but that pissed Shintarou off.

...

Annoying as not understanding was, he would have been better off had it never gone any further. Yet knowledge had come crashing down the night he’d gotten The Drunk Call, wherein he’d witnessed yet another side of his partner, and learned something horrifying about himself in the process. It was made at 1 AM on Sunday morning, and had Shintarou not worried about his phone’s ringtone waking the entire house he would never have answered it. As it was, the following conversation boiled down to this:

_Shin-chan! Are you home?_

_It is one in the morning!_

_Great! I’ll be right there!_

Knowing Takao’s persistence and proclivity to ring the doorbell far more times than was strictly necessary, Shintarou clothed and seated himself on the front doorstep. Although it was a warm night for the season, he still shivered sporadically. With every shiver he planned Takao’s demise. It would be talked of for years, of that he was sure. Yet every third shiver was of anticipation, rather than rage or cold. What could Takao want with him at this time, when he was quite obviously intoxicated? Had he wanted to see him that badly? Or was it only something stupid? He couldn’t get his hopes (what hopes?) up, as there was absolutely nothing to hope for. By the time he spotted Takao stumbling up the walkway to his house, however, he was half beside himself, and when he was close enough to spot his partner’s goofy ( _handsome_ ) smile he was unsure of whether he wanted most to hit him or hug him.

Takao took the decision away from him by hurtling headlong into his chest and wrapping his arms around him in his best impression of a barnacle. Shintarou winced and reflexively began prying the smaller boy off of him, ignoring the odd little song Takao was singing to the tune of that atrocious Yankee Doodah song they had learned in English class the other day ( _Shin-chan is the tallest man, Shin-channnn, Shin-channnn, Shin-chan is my favorite man, Shin-chan is the beeeest)_ before he was struck by a cloying, feminine, floral scent. Perfume. Takao was doused in (some woman’s) perfume. Judging by the late hour and level of inebriation, there was only one explanation: he had attended one of those _speed dating_ things his classmates were always going on about, and he had clearly...oh, how did they say it... _got lucky._

Shintarou’s heart crumpled inwards on itself, and for a long minute or so he was paralyzed from a cocktail of shock, grief, and the urge to run away. It was only when Takao reached up with unsteady hands to poke at his chin ( _What’s wrong, Shin-chan? Please don’t...don’t make that face! Tell me what’s wrong! Shin-chan!)_ that he regained his senses, managed to shove Takao away, and stumbled back into the house.

Through a minor miracle, Takao had accepted defeat and left without waking the entire Midorima household. Yet the damage was done. In either hand he held the broken halves of his heart, without ever having realized Takao had access to it in the first place. In his characteristic way, he did not question when he had fallen in love with him, nor why. It had happened, despite his best efforts, and therefore was the will of the gods. Why the gods thought it best to begin with a broken heart was beyond him, but at least he could take this cold comfort - Takao was a heterosexual man. At least he had not been turned down for anything he could control.

No, what concerned him most was what he could now _do._ Telling Takao was out of the question - it would destroy their friendship, as well as their team dynamic, and Shintarou would never let that happen. Additionally, his family was painfully traditional. Western clothing - save the school uniform and business suits - was strictly off limits, as were non-Japanese meals, and any/all talks of studying abroad. ( _Basketball was only allowed as he had begun it without telling them, and by the time they realized what he was actually doing after school the middle school guidance counselor had assured his parents that participating in this particular school club would go a long way towards elite universities’ acceptance._ ) Therefore desiring men was clearly out of the question. Perhaps it was for the best that his...interest did not reciprocate.

 _(It did not keep him from laying awake at night, however, remembering the cadence of Takao’s voice, nor the strength in his arms, the stretch of his shoulders, the silk of his stylishly cut hair, the myriad expressions in his quicksilver eyes. Worst was when he dreamed of Takao’s determination, reliving the days he had shown his strength as a man, not just as a friend. I’ll throw you a roaring pass,_ and, _we will beat him. We will win. Those times, the compulsion to hold him was overwhelming, and he feared for his composure the whole following day.)_

The next day Takao had shown up at his house, with a rare solemn expression and rickshaw at the ready. He had pedaled to school in silence, and the lack of his usual chatter was deafening. Shintarou’s nerves had been stretched to the breaking point, and when Takao had turned to him upon arrival with that determination that made Shintarou tingle, the ace took drastic measures. _Buy me shiruko and all is forgiven,_ he had said. Holding Takao’s searching gaze had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, but he had decided that it was all worth it. He would never get what he wanted, just as he would never crack jokes with ease, or smile without fear of being judged. But he would keep Takao, come hell or high water. Even if it meant lying to both his partner and himself, and even if it made him - in the long run - miserable.

…

Things had gone on in the natural way, and if Shintarou tended to be slightly more difficult on mornings when Takao had turned his cell phone off the night before, and was exhausted the next day, neither of them remarked on it. Those time were few and far between, however, and for the most part they regained their equilibrium with little fuss. Shintarou didn’t worry about being awkward, as he had always been such - although he did worry about the desire to monopolize every moment of Takao’s time. It was all he could do. He could never bring himself to touch Takao, as that had always been his partner’s province _(The month following The Drunk Call had been one of the most frustrating times in his life, as Takao suddenly became careful about how often he touched him, and the first day Takao slung his arm up and over his shoulder and just stayed there for at least a minute caused his entire body to suffuse with joy. He could only hope his point guard had not seen his smile.)_ and that was both a blessing and a curse. Now, he wanted Takao to touch him all the time. Even more, he regretted that he’d not established a habit of casually touching him. Why had he never smacked him upside the head before he had fallen in love? Even that would be preferable to simply watching and wanting him!

Little changed, although they very carefully never spoke of girlfriends - or even girls - again. Everything was basketball, or lucky items, or families, or their mutual friends (if the Generation of Miracles, Kaijou’s point guard and half the Seirin team could be considered as such) or anything else that could not be skewed from the platonic. Shintarou was grateful. Although they never spoke of The Drunk Call, Takao understood that certain lines could not be crossed. So even though Shintarou’s heart still throbbed whenever Takao was charming with any of the young ladies in their class, they were still friends.

It was painful, sometimes. And he certainly was not doing everything he could do. But it would be, as he had told Kuroko the last time they spoke, much worse to have nothing at all.

…

…

…

…

…

The teacup lay in Kuroko’s hands, empty and long forgotten. His eyes were wide, and if he had been slightly less well-bred, his mouth would have been hanging open. That...was not what he had expected. That was _romantic._ “I think Midorima-kun is pursuing the wrong profession. He should write novels. I am moved.”

“None of your sass, please. I was honest. And thorough.” Midorima shivered. “Painfully so. I will never speak of this again. I think I’d rather die, first.”

Kuroko set his cup down, feeling a little guilty for being ambiguous. “I was serious. My story pales in comparison to yours. Now I am sure that you will not enjoy hearing it.”

“Impossible. Besides, we agreed: a tale for a tale. Let me order a refill and then you shallbegin.”

Kuroko winced when Midorima turned. He feared that his tale, on the heels of Midorima’s heartfelt exposition would appear...well. _Raunchy._ Finally realizing just how embarrassing this whole venture was, he sank a bit lower in his seat, wondering if it would be forgivable to use misdirection and run away.

Yet just then the waiter appeared with another helping of shiruko, and Kuroko’s chance passed. It wouldn’t have been honorable, anyway. Across from him, Midorima stirred his drink and then brought his attention back to his teammate. Kuroko was struck by how _calm_ he was being about this. Had his old shooting guard really matured so much in only a few years? And was _this_ Takao’s doing as well? “Well?”

Knowing that no one would believe Midorima should he choose to betray his confidence, and that it was upon Midorima’s own head if he offended his tender sensibilities, Kuroko began. “ _It all began with a lie..”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takao’s Shin-Chan song is to be sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle.  
> ...  
> I’m not sure where this came from, but I hope it’s not too jarring a juxtaposition with the first chapter. There will be 3 more of these (Kuroko, Kagami, and Takao) interspersed with 2 more incidents (like the first chapter), so if you really like what you just read, you’re in luck! If not, well. Damn.  
> Either way, let me know what you think :)


	3. The Second Tale: Kuroko Tetsuya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Confession

  It all began with a lie. Since the end of his Teikou career, Tetsuya’s head had been filled with thoughts of vengeance, and his heart with sorting out his dreams from his defeats. Even if he hadn’t liked every single one of them, he had trusted his teammates to play the game for the right reasons...or at least to enjoy it. Yet every single one of them had betrayed him, and so he ran away.

It was with nothing left but a highly developed skill and a wavering sense of purpose that Tetsuya then met Kagami-kun. He was obviously quite good - on Kise-kun’s level, or thereabouts. And there were flashes of brilliance that showed he would only get better. Best of all he was unknown, and Tetsuya would bet anything that Kagami-kun didn’t know about the Generation of Miracles. He had followed him into Maji Burger that night to discover he was correct, and not only that, but that Kagami-kun was an idiot. An idiot and a returnee who had spent almost half of his life in America - this would prove easier than he’d thought.

Tetsuya would show his old teammates that _he_ hadn’t been wrong - basketball was not about their ruthless victory-oriented mindset He would show them that that his playing style was superior. And Kagami-kun would be his means of doing it. _I’ll make you number one in Japan_ , he had told him later. With that lie, he had decided his own fate.

…

Everything had started off according to plan, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed himself. Seirin was a more well-rounded team than he had remembered, and with enough personality to amuse him. He particularly liked the Coach and Captain, especially when they goaded each other on (although not when it ended in the team running laps). Winding up Kagami-kun was ridiculously easy, with the immediate payoff of blushes and stutters and loud exclamations _(he took particular pleasure in Kagami-kun’s expression the day after he had written down his determination in chalk across the schoolyard. He had never seen someone go purple before, and he doubted he would again._ ) That it was akin to teasing Aomine-kun in the first two years of middle school was something he tried not to think about, and when he did, forced himself to think of something else.

In general, he was impressed with the team’s determination, and although it wasn’t enough to chase away the shadows in his heart it was enough to make him smile. Then had come the practice match against Kaijou, with Kise-kun’s annoying simpering and Kagami-kun’s brash destruction of public school property. When the rusted hoop had come down under the force of Kagami-kun’s dunk, Tetsuya had suspected that they would win - but he knew he was a sucker for declarative, macho acts, and had deferred judgement until the last twenty seconds, when it all came down to him and the layup he would never, ever make.

Just as he had expected ( _hoped_ ) Kagami-kun had slammed the ball in, carrying them to victory when alone, Tetsuya would have fallen. Truthfully, Tetsuya hadn’t been surprised. He had counted on Kagami-kun and knew he would make the shot. What he hadn’t counted on was the flush of warmth in his chest when Kagami-kun had landed - graceful and powerful as a grecian god - and smiled widely at him. His light had sought _him_ out first - as if the victory was anything other than a blatant manipulation of his skills and strength - and even though he tried to remind himself of past betrayals ( _Aomine-kun, Aomine-kun, Aomine-kun…)_ he couldn’t help but smile back. Here, then, was the first upheaval - playing with Kagami-kun made him _happy._

He should have realized then that his plan would only end in failure. Every practice was a confirmation of it - playing with Kagami-kun was like playing with Aomine-kun at his happiest, and something more besides: Kagami-kun was naturally a team player, even when his skills were leagues above the rest. Yet it was not just on the court. Antisocial as he could be, Kagami-kun was not mean or proud in the slightest - and what came across as arrogance was an idiot’s confidence, and his standoffishness was simply the awkwardness of knowing himself to be a foreigner in his home country. Although Tetsuya’s ruthless plans still held himself back from outright befriending Kagami-kun ( _Don’t smirk, Midorima-kun. I didn’t smirk at your story)_ he could feel that resolve crumbling, and he caught himself considering what a friend might do for his light: eat lunch with him, poke him and wake him up when he fell asleep in class, tease him mercilessly outside of practice, help him with his (abysmal) grades… Tetsuya began to bargain with himself, wondering if it would endanger his scheme if he opened up just a little bit to Kagami-kun. The man was such an idiot, he would never even realize what was happening, right? Likewise, Tetsuya could never let another idiot hurt him again. Besides, the end goal would not change...in the end, he would still win. This way, he would simply enjoy it a little more.

Tetsuya struggled with this indecision all throughout the Interhigh Tournament, until Aomine-kun and his new team soundly defeated them. At the time there was no room in him for anything other than Aomine-kun’s mocking laugh, and the monstrousness of his playing style. He had only gotten stronger, so much so that it made Tetsuya look as if he were standing still. The past victories against Shuutoku and Kaijou meant nothing, now. Aomine-kun was king, victor, champion. Tetsuya was nothing in comparison. And Kagami-kun…? Kagami-kun had waited until they were the last two in the locker room before denouncing him. _I guess cooperation can’t stand up to their skills,_ he had said, and Tetsuya knew what he really meant. What were lights and shadows when faced with the sun? All Kagami-kun could do was to become a sun, himself, and there was nothing Tetsuya could do to change his mind.

Tetsuya lay in bed that night wondering why his heart was lodged in his throat and the back of his eyes were still stinging. He told himself that it was just the pain of losing, and of seeing Aomine-kun again. It had nothing to do with the sound of Kagami-kun’s disappointment, echoing inside his skull until he thought he’d go mad.

Yet whereas Tetsuya was an excellent liar to everyone else, he couldn’t lie to himself. Somehow, against all his plans, he had grown to genuinely like Kagami-kun. The basketball idiot’s honest enthusiasm had made him hope for a happier ending, and he found that it was impossible to let it go. Just how had he come to believe in Kagami-kun? He had only ever been a pawn in his plan! Besides, the power forward was an idiot. Idiot, idiot, _idiot._ Simple and foolish and by no means truly Japanese but somehow he had gotten under Tetsuya’s skin so that he actually regretted their breaking apart. It was no use reassuring himself that he only mourned the vehicle of revenge, as that fantasy had been done in weeks ago during the everyday grind of Seirin’s practice. He liked his team, and he liked Kagami-kun. It was as simple as that. And just when he realized that he wanted to be Kagami-kun’s light for real, the opportunity was beyond his reach forever.

...

Kiyoshi-senpai came, and Tetsuya saw his way to atone. He would give up his starting spot, and give the team a fighting chance. But when he broached the subject with the Coach, he was turned down and chastised - _Didn’t he know how hard Kagami was working for the both of them? He’d never give up faith in you, Kuroko. So don’t let him down now!_

Hope lanced through him like a blade, cutting away all his fear, all his doubt. He barely remembered leaving the Coach, and ran like an idiot ( _idiocy was catching, this was undeniable proof_ ) to the court where they met. There was no room for thought or for planning, there was just the need to find Kagami-kun. His light. Who was _still_ his light, even after they had lost; he had never given up on him - it was only Tetsuya who had failed, never Kagami-kun, and maybe maybe _maybe_ he would still want him to be his shadow…

_Why did you pick me?_ Kagami-kun had asked after their impromptu match, dripping with sweat yet radiating energy, even when Tetsuya was ready to drop. What else could he say? He confessed his lie and for a moment felt Kagami-kun drifting away - for all his talk of expecting such a story, or knowing it the whole time, he had felt the connection between them weakening, and he suspected that if he didn’t come clean now, he would lose it all. So he opened his mouth and out it came - how Kagami-kun had always believed in him, and through that trust, had remade him. ( _Of course not with those words, exactly. Otherwise even the idiot would get it, and the last thing he needed Kagami-kun to know was exactly how much power he held over him. To admit that Kagami-kun’s faith had re-written his perception of self and how his partnership had grown to mean everything to him in such a short span of time was far too indicative of stronger feelings, and Tetsuya only realized how deeply those feelings ran when Kagami-kun held out his fist for him to pound. Ahh,_ he had thought. _So that’s how it is.)_

Somehow, it had worked. They had walked home together, bond reaffirmed and stronger than ever. Tetsuya felt as if he were floating. The weight of all his plans and manipulations were gone now, and he was fighting for honest reasons. He also knew that _this_ light would never leave him, and that together, they would only become stronger. Of course, as soon as he reached the safety of his room he acknowledged the real reason he felt as if he were flying. He was in love with Kagami-kun. His light was rough, clueless, and did he ever mention that he was an idiot, but he was also kind, straightforward, and had a belief in Tetsuya that (apparently) couldn’t be shaken. And that was that. He was in love. He, who had never given love a second thought, who had lived and breathed basketball, had somehow fallen for the biggest basketball idiot of them all.

His plan was utterly undone. Yet somehow, it just didn’t feel like losing.

…

After that, everything changed for the better. He no longer trailed after Kagami-kun, he now walked at his side. They weren’t just partners, they were friends, even if neither of them would admit it _(it was one of the many things he liked about his light, after all, that maidenly bashfulness so at odds with his brusque, Americanized way of speaking_ ) and he was able to implement all those things he had considered leading up the Interhigh Tournament. There was now another aspect to the pleasure in teasing Kagami-kun; in finding out everything he could do to make him lose his cool - watching the color creep over his cheeks and the tension in his muscled body made something swoop in Tetsuya’s stomach, and his own eyes uncharacteristically bright. Had Aomine-kun or Momoi-san seen him at those unguarded moments perhaps his secret would have been discovered, but as it was Tetsuya was careful to present that side of himself only to Kagami-kun. He was the only one whom he _wanted_ to see it, after all.

And it wasn’t as if Kagami-kun was bothered by it, or anything. That, or he was the most stoic being alive. The returnee had no real temper, oddly enough; all bluster and absolutely no bite. Unlike in the very beginning of their partnership, no matter what he did Tetsuya was forgiven in minutes, and Kagami-kun never took offense. He simply shook his head, muttered something in English, and moved on. As time passed, he loosened up enough to flick Tetsuya’s forehead, or muss his hair in retaliation. That, or he’d punish him by buying him burgers at Maji Burger, and forcing him to eat all two of them...although that could also attributed to Kagami-kun’s secret mothering instincts, in which he tried to grumpily feed and care for everyone that wandered into his life. ( _I already warned you about the smirking, Midorima-kun. Do you or do you not eat over at Kagami-kun’s apartment on a weekly basis? That is what I thought)._

The point was that the more he got to know him, the more he realized Kagami-kun was perfect. Not only could the man cook, clean, hold his temper, and shared Tetsuya’s driving passion for basketball, he was also easy to manipulate, accepting to a fault, and utterly adorable. That, and he was physically very, _very_ attractive. Now it made sense that Tetsuya had never been attracted to Momoi-san, who was by all accounts a beautiful woman. Clearly, she just didn’t do it for him. His tastes ran more to the hulking athlete, with crimson hair and broad shoulders and thick eyebrows… It was fortunate that at his core, Tetsuya was a monogamous man, otherwise realizing where his interests lay while surrounded by ripped teenage boys might have been disastrous. As it was, Kagami-kun left space for no one else within his heart. ( _Kagami-kun would clearly have to take responsibility, as soon as Tetsuya could determine whether he was straight or not._ )

So Tetsuya made a new plan, and it encompassed getting close enough to Kagami-kun to either cure himself of his infatuation, or to gauge whether he had the slightest chance of a happy ending. Still, he was in control. And Kagami-kun would never find out, unless Tetsuya deemed it acceptable.

…

Everything went according to Tetsuya’s (new) plan until the summer training camp. It was then that Tetsuya discovered that through the heat, sweat, and the ever-present imminence of physical collapse, he _desired_ Kagami-kun. It was extremely distracting, to say the least. He had never before in his _life_ thought sweat was sexy - yet now that it was running down Kagami-kun’s neck in rivulets, he wanted nothing more than to kiss them back into his partner’s hairline. He would then proceed to lick the man silly, tongue crossing his shoulders, trailing down his well-defined chest and abs, lingering at his hips...inevitably, his mental projections always ended at what lay between his thighs, and the thought of _that_ made Tetsuya’s mind go a little fuzzy. He never allowed himself to reflect on _that_ unless he was absolutely alone, or at night when the lights were out, and no one could then see if the thought of licking Kagami-kun _there_ made him inappropriately excited.

( _Stop squirming, Midorima-kun. I_ warned _you about this…)_

Keeping his mind out of the gutter became nearly impossible during that week of training, when he and his light were practically inseparable. It didn’t help that Kagami-kun apparently saw no reason to hang out with anyone other than Tetsuya when they were off the court. Disregarding practice sessions and the time when Coach corralled him into carrying groceries for the team, Kagami-kun was either by himself or with his shadow. Even when the team was bonding in the hot springs, he elected to leave early, after he had brushed Hyuuga-senpai’s back to pulp. ( _That could be attributed to Kagami-kun’s shyness, however. His ‘American Education’ had made him squeamish about bathing in public, and even when everyone else was starkers, he chose to modestly hide the object of Tetsuya’s lust with a towel. This was probably for the best, as otherwise Tetsuya would have tackled him. That, and he found the modesty extremely adorable)._

Yet Kagami-kun was fine with Tetsuya using the bathroom while he showered, and that was heartening -

_(He probably didn’t know you were there._

_Yes he did, Midorima-kun. We held a conversation. Now shut up and drink your shiruko.)_

As he was saying. That they were close enough to share a bathroom was heartening, but it was also a test to Tetsuya’s fortitude. Kagami-kun touched him carelessly, ruffling his bedhead into some semblance of normalcy, placing his toothbrush firmly in his hand, and he even resorted to picking Tetsuya up and moving him when he had dozed off directly in front of the door. _(He made no excuses, his physical condition was weak. He had woken up quickly enough, however, at the feel of large hands wrapping around his ribcage, picking him up gently, not even faltering under his weight. All the while Kagami-kun had scolded him, but all Tetsuya could focus on was the heat of Kagami-kun’s hands and the synchronicity of his weightless body and heart)._ Welcome as these innocent actions were, they also stoked the embers of his lust. Each time their eyes met in the mirror, mouths ringed by toothpaste foam, Tetsuya wanted to spit out his toothbrush and drag Kagami-kun down to the floor. Every time, he held himself back. And every time, he wondered what would bring him to the breaking point.

Tetsuya waxed poetic as he lay awake the last night of camp, listening to the heavy breathing of his sleeping light next to him. Love, he realized, is a hunger. It is a fever that settles in the blood, bringing on dark delusions and bitter truths. It is the sweetness of poison, lifting the heart before it drops it to shatter against the floor. It is a caged animal within the breast, batting against the bars of his ribcage, screaming against its captivity.

Kagami-kun is that animal, he knows that as well. He is raw and primal, powerful and joyous, an excess of life and exuberance that Tetsuya will never know. It is exhilarating merely to stand beside him, siphoning off what little power he can use...and giving him what little he can, in return. Yet what could Tetsuya offer him, besides friendship and his abilities as his shadow? How could he possibly entice the tiger to feast?

Tetsuya doesn’t know, so he merely closes in his eyes in the dark, and _wants._

...

Months passed, along with their first Winter Cup. Holidays, exams, outings and practice games regiment their lives, and about the time of their second Interhigh tournament, Tetsuya realized that he had competition. He had long been slightly jealous of Kagami-kun’s relationship with Himuro-san, but it was obvious that Kagami-kun considered the shooting guard as a brother, and with his own friendship with Aomine-kun reinstated, it would be hypocritical of him to protest at their closeness. Still, when the older boy called Kagami-kun every night for a week - during their Maji Burger and extra practice time/study time, no less - Tetsuya knew. Himuro-san wanted him. The two had separated when they were boys, but now they were men: it made sense that Himuro-san, who knew even better than Tetsuya how angelic Kagami-kun could be would fall for him, if his adolescent feelings for him hadn’t been part of the problem in the first place. Judging by how happy Kagami-kun seemed every time Himuro-san called, the shooting guard had a chance as long as he could overcome the stigma of being an older brother.

That entire week, Tetsuya weighed his options. He could swallow his seething jealousy and do nothing, and potentially allow Himuro-san to win what he wanted so badly. This would require trusting in Kagami-kun to not fall for his immensely attractive ( _older brothe_ r) friend, or to prepare for impending sainthood, as watching the man he loved be with another would require nothing less. Or, he could modify his own plans, and act on his own feelings for the power forward. ( _It would be simple - misdirection was his art, after all, and he’d been thinking about this for a long, long time. There were so many delicious possibilities: offering to give Kagami-kun a massage and taking advantage of his relaxed state to run his hands over every inch of his body; stepping into his shower stall in the locker rooms after practice and proceeding to clean him with his tongue; slipping under the table at Maji Burger in order to enjoy something slightly different than his customary vanilla milkshake.)_

Yet he was self-aware enough to know if he was forced to see Kagami-kun’s happy smile when Himuro-san called one more time, he would lose it and likely put himself out of the running. So he distanced himself, taking a few days away from Kagami-kun so that he could make a decision. It was a dangerous plan, but he knew that snapping would be worse - this way, even if he lost Kagami-kun to Yousen’s shooting guard, they would still be best friends.

He was about twenty minutes away from choosing to seduce Kagami-kun when his partner surprised him yet again, however. Practice had barely ended on the third day he’d distanced himself when Kagami-kun had looked directly at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, and flat out asked. _Why haven’t you been doing extra practice at night with me? Have I done something wrong? Are you mad at me?_ And then, after Kiyoshi-senpai’s eyebrows had risen halfway to his hairline, _I can’t practice our special plays by myself!_

It was the most adorable moment of his life. If it hadn’t been for Kiyoshi-senpai’s wide-eyed interest and Izuki-senpai’s terrible puns, Tetsuya would have jumped him right then and there. As it was, the presence of their team gave him room and necessity to think up an acceptable excuse for his distance. _I am not mad in the slightest. I merely wanted to give you time with your brother, Kagami-kun. I know how much you value him, after all._

Kagami-kun had watched him carefully before he responded, ignoring the levity of their teammates. _I value you too, knucklehead - (_ Tetsuya wasn’t quite sure of what a ‘knucklehead’ was, but he assumed it was something American and endearing, judging by the tone of voice when Kagami-kun called him such) - _you’re my partner, after all. I’ll… I’ll tell him to tone it down. It_ is _getting a bit much…_

Here was an unlooked for victory, one that deterred his rival while preserving the status quo. There was also that sweet hesitance in Kagami-kun’s concern - and in how he’d noticed Tetsuya’s absence, perhaps even _missed_ him. There were undertones of regret in the heady rush of victory, however. He’d been so close to committing himself, and to be pulled back from the brink of such a momentous decision was hard to take. What if that instance had been the beginning of something wonderful? Logically, Tetsuya knew that probably wasn’t the case. There was a very small chance of Kagami-kun returning his feelings, and even less so with a corresponding voracity. Still, from time to time his heart throbbed, and he kicked himself for not extending the moment. It would have been easy to let a little of his jealousy out, and claim later it was just a new way of teasing Kagami-kun. He could have spelled out his possessiveness, before whisking it away under the guise of a joke. Yet he hadn’t, and likely would never get another chance.

Yet he had been proven wrong one week ago when The Incident had occurred, and Tetsuya’s hopes had come crashing down as surely as had his plastic cup. It had taken Kagami-kun an interminably long amount of time to shove Himuro-san off his lap, and had done nothing but fume ineffectually afterwards. Clearly, Tetsuya had been right all along about Himuro-san. Just as clearly, Kagami-kun hadn’t hated it. With time and proper persuasion, he could probably be induced to like it. Unless Himuro-san met with an _unfortunate and_ _completely unexpected accident,_ he would likely win it all.

More than he hated Himuro-san, however, Tetsuya hated himself. Why had he not taken the plunge? It could have been _he_ who had taken Kagami-kun’s first (man) kiss! It could have been he who would be coaxing Kagami-kun, step by delicious step into a forbidden relationship! Now all he could do was watch as his love was taken away by a sinfully attractive man, who - according to Kagami-kun - seemed cool on the surface by actually burned hot like the sun. Such a man would fit Kagami-kun, and with painful clarity Tetsuya could see the rings round their necks adorning their fingers, instead.

...

He knew he was handling this badly. He hadn’t even spoken to Kagami-kun since the party two days ago. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to talk to him, knowing that all he could say would destroy their partnership. So he held himself back, ignoring the calls and texts that did not come. And Kagami-kun’s studied ignorance of _him_ hurt almost as much as remembering the kiss. For all he knew, Kagami-kun was too busy discovering the joys of the flesh with Himuro-san to even notice Tetsuya had pulled a vanishing act. If that were the case, Kagami-kun was the biggest idiot that Tetsuya had ever met in his life, and he should simply walk him off. He should tell himself that he would undoubtedly find someone better - someone less of an idiot, at any rate - that would love him back. Someone that would walk and talk with him, read books with him...flush adorably when teased; share his pursuits; cook atrociously well; harbor secret, domestic nurturing instincts; speak English when distracted; ruffle his hair when he wanted to show affection; maintain a crippling fear of dogs even though his best friend brought his over all the time in an effort to rid him of his fear, and - god help him, all thoughts lead back to Kagami-kun. How could he get over him when his only downfalls were his idiocy (and even that was _endearing_ ) and that he didn’t love him back?

Kagami-kun was an idiot. Yet Tetsuya was even more so. And if it began with a lie, he would end it with one: he was over Kagami-kun. And he would never want him again.

…

…

…

…

…

Midorima set his cup down firmly, frowning severely. “That...was not what I expected.”

Kuroko rested his forehead on his hands, eschewing good posture in order to hide his face. ‘I warned you. Not everyone can be as romantic as you, Midorima-kun. And not everyone has watched the object of their desire commit improprieties with another man. At least you never _saw_ Takao-kun with a girl.” He swirled the dregs of his tea within the cup. “At least Takao-kun likes _women.”_

The shooting guard could not reply. It was true - Kuroko’s tale contained more heartbreak than his own, although he suspected it also held more potential for success. Midorima could never admit his feelings to Takao, knowing him to be straight. But Kagami-kun’s ambiguity and the recent circumstances opened up an opportunity for Kuroko...as long as he would take it. “I will be honest with you, Kuroko. I think you have given up too soon. As far as I can tell, Kagami and Himuro-san have years of disconnect to work through, whereas you do not. And if Kagami...enjoyed Himuro-san’s attention, there is a decent chance he would enjoy yours as well. Besides, you have as good as admitted that you have no intention of forgetting Kagami. Isn’t it better to at least try?”

The passing guard toyed with his napkin, lips pressed in a firm line. “So what would you have me do? He won’t talk to me!”

“I believe you’ve already outlined a list of...seductive techniques. You described them in excruciating detail in a public venue with minimal embarrassment. Simply implement one of them. But perhaps he is not speaking to you because you are not speaking to _him._ Your expression was rather severe after _it_ happened, and perhaps he is worried that you dislike him now. He is certainly not the only one who suspects this.”

Kuroko raised his head of his hands, and surprise softened his impassive features. “What are you saying? People are talking about my reaction?”

Midorima scoffed. “If you count Kise as people. He sent a few frantic texts the other day, asking if I knew anything about your and Kagami’s spat. I ignored him, of course, but if _he_ knows...well. Momoi probably does as well, and by extension, Aomine. Would either of them have mentioned it to Kagami?”

The blood drained from Kuroko’s face. He could see it clearly: even if Aomine had kept his mouth shut and not made some charged comment about lighting up for the wrong person, Momoi would not have. She would have torn into Kagami for undermining their partnership, even if she wouldn’t allow herself to realize what Kuroko’s desolation implied. No wonder Kagami had avoided him - with his awkwardness, he wouldn’t have had the slightest idea of how to go about fixing something that hadn’t been his fault in the first place. Kuroko sighed. He really _was_ an idiot. Even if Kagami did have feelings for Himuro, he wouldn’t have thrown away their partnership so easily. Kuroko wouldn’t have fallen in love with him if he hadn’t trusted him enough to cherish at least that! “It is likely all three of them would have mentioned it. Perhaps you are right - in that respect. I should at least let him know that I am not angry with him, and that I may have overreacted.”

Midorima took a sip of his shiruko. “And in regards to your feelings?”

“If Takao-kun was sexually inclined to return your feelings, would you tell him?”

“Our situations _differ,_ Kuroko. You have a chance. I do not.”

Fighting down the tiny bloom of hope took more effort than Kuroko had expected. He steepled his fingers, inspecting the interlocked arches as he considered this. In the third worst scenario, Kagami was straight. Even were that so, it was likely that he wouldn’t overly mind Kuroko’s feelings, seeing as how he’d been half-raised by Alexandra the Kissing Monster and had forgiven Himuro by the party’s end. In the second worst scenario, he’d turn him down as he would rather be with Himuro. In the worst scenario...well. If something so small as a confession shook their partnership, perhaps their bond had never been as strong as he had thought. “I will consider it, Midorima-kun.” He took a deep breath and considered plunging a fork into his eye before continuing, “And...thank you. For meeting with me. Somehow - inexplicably - I feel perhaps the smallest amount better after our talk. _Perhaps.”_

_“_ Rude to the last, Kuroko. Yet the same holds true for me. This was beneficial, I believe. And it certainly has given me something to think about.”

Kuroko made a face, but let Midorima’s smirk pass without further comment. “I think I should call Kagami-kun now, just to clear up the misunderstanding. I will let you know how it goes. If anything changes with Takao-kun, feel free to alert me.”

Midorima’s eyebrows rose at Kuroko’s largesse. “Certainly. Ah, and before I forget - Takao will likely be hosting a get together at his home next week when his parents and sister are their family in Osaka for a few days. I’m sure he will invite most, if not all of Seirin, so I’m not precipitate in inviting you and Kagami to attend. And as far as I can tell, he had _not_ planned on inviting Yousen. Take it any way you’d like. Still, I hope the both of you might attend. It may be an uncomfortable evening, otherwise.”

Kuroko nodded knowingly. “He’s inviting Kise-kun, isn’t he.”

“Of course. Although I believe he’s planning on inviting their ex-captain, as well as our own senpai, so there is a large chance he will be kicked and pineapple’d. That is something to look forward to, at any rate.”

“Indeed. I will take my leave now. I will contact you soon, Midorima-kun.”

Midorima watched him go, as well as he was able. He made sure to watch the cafe door swing closed before removing his cell phone from his pocket. A streak of light blue glimpsed through the window outside confirmed Kuroko had indeed left, and Midorima typed in a long-memorized number.

After three rings, it connected. “Hey, Shin-chan! What’s up?”

Midorima swallowed. “Takao. I need a favor…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroko’s word of the day: idiot.   
> ...  
>  I haven’t read the series in a long time, so forgive me if I make some continuity mistakes. I am striving for accuracy, but I’m also afraid if I re-read the pertinent chapters, I’ll accidentally copy the dialogue word for word. So please forgive my paraphrasing, and my mistakes! (And my sins. But that goes without saying.)  
> ...  
>  I also left out Nigou again. Whoops.


	4. The Second Incident - Takao's Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party where things do not go as planned.

Takao’s houseparty was in full swing, and he could have asked for nothing more. The guests had all arrived, the punch was liberally spiked, pizza was in abundance, and the Three Musketeers of Seirin - Furihata, Kawahara, and Fukuda - had even set up an iPod and portable speakers to provide an impromptu dance floor in Takao’s living room. Best of all, the Secret Plan of Epic Proportions was well underway, and unless something went very badly, Takao suspected it would be his masterwork for the entire year.

S.P.E.P had begun when Shin-chan had called him a few weeks back, after a classified conversation with Seirin’s phantom. The call had boiled down to this: deep down in his tsundere little heart (bless him) he wanted Kuroko and Kagami to have a happy ending. Never mind that they were men, in Japan, and that happy endings came rarely for even those with socially acceptable sexual leanings. Still, Takao liked challenges, and liked it when Shin-chan was being sweet even more. And this was a noble cause. Now, to ensure that his cohort was in position-

“...if you can give me shit about my magazines, I sure as hell should be able to give you shit about this, Satsuki.”

“This is not the same thing at all, Dai-chan. This is _true love._ Your magazines are just _raunchy._ ”

Takao’s head whipped around in time to see Aomine’s smirk. “Shows what _you_ know. Unless that’s the voice of secret experience talking. Been peeking in my mags, Satsuki?”

Takao was less interested in Momoi’s response than who or what was truly in love. He didn’t need the hawkeye to figure it out, however. Hyuuga and Aida were swaying in the middle of his living room, drunk as lords. Edging closer to the Touou twosome was Kiyoshi Teppei, who watched proudly, snapping occasional cell phone pictures. At his side was Ootsubo, oddly enough, who sniffed freely, clearly overcome. “They’re just so _sweet.”_

Kiyoshi threw an arm over his shoulder, and Takao wondered when on earth they’d become friends. It very likely had been over the punch bowl, several minutes ago. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Enjoy it with me, my new friend. Bask in the glory of adolescent _amour._ Oh, and look! Hyuuga found his balls!”

Hyuuga had indeed. He had paused in his uncoordinated swaying to lean down and nuzzle Aida’s lips with his nose, eventually replacing them with his mouth. True love proceeded in full splendor as Seirin’s coach and captain began making out in Takao’s house, to the dulcet tones of Elton John _._

_Caaaaaaaan you feeeeeeel the loooove toniiiiiiight-_  
For a long moment all spectators appreciated the spectacle in silence, and at the iPod Furihata had what appeared to be an epileptic seizure or a religious experience of sheer joy. Then, Aomine broke the silence with a disgruntled look. “Is that all? He’s not even touching her tits.”

Satsuki looked up, thoroughly investigating the heavens. “That’s it, Dai-chan. I am getting some romance into you even if it kills you. Or me. _Kills us both.”_ She took his face within her hands and pointed them in the direction of the new couple. “Watch them. _Feel the love.”_

“I’m about to feel the backside of your head as I smack it, woman-”

Kiyoshi pressed a hand to his heart, ignoring the young people on his other side. “Oh, Hyuuga. Your form is so sloppy! Although that could be the amount of liquor I pushed on him...wait! Is that…? Do I see tongue?”

Takao’s former center burst out into tears. “It’s just...so... _beautiful!”_

“Banzaiiii! Hyuuga’s become a man! A tongue-man, no less! Look at them go!”

“Huh. Now _that’s_ more like it. Who knew four-eyes had it in him?”

“Hopeless, Dai-chan. You are _hopeless.”_

Kiyoshi wiped away a fake tear. “What a bold new era for Seirin. And they usher it in so fearlessly! Overall, I’d rate them an 8/10. What do you say, brother Ootsubo?”

Ootsubo, who must be absolutely shitfaced to continue with such a farce, gurgled in reply. “8.5. The performance was just so _moving.”_

“Pink Ranger?”

Satsuki watched her rival critically. “7. He’s a bit sloppy, but I feel as if her passion is not quite equal to his. Still. Worth watching.”

“As expected of the master data analyst. Blue Ranger?”

Aomine threw his most displeased look over at Kiyoshi. “Blue Ranger? I’m not the fuc-”

“ _Dai-chan.”_ Satsuki elbowed him in the side, and he winced theatrically. He then grabbed both her hands so she would not proceed to slap him silly.

“Stop squirming, woman. I’m taking your true love seriously, calm down. I’d give it a 4. No naughty bits are showing, she’s flat as a board, glasses aren’t my kink, and for gods’ sake the song is on repeat. Other than that it’s going pretty well.”

“Brutally honest as always, Blue Ranger-”

Smirking, Takao turned away. Amusing as that diversion had been, he had nearly gotten sidetracked. And if he didn’t keep his nose to the grindstone, S.P.E.P. would be going nowhere. He blamed his compadre, personally. Although Kagami was a tiger on the court ( _and where was the eagle man, he’d enjoy that)_ the man was a veritable lamb off of it, and although Takao had assured him over and _over again_ that this was the only way he was going to get into Kuroko’s pants (and there was much rejoicing) the man was still balking. _It’s not honest_ , he whined, _and Kuroko’s going to kill us all when he figures out what we did._

No, Kagami was by no means the ideal accessory to a night of mischief. But the request had come from Captain Shin-chan, and there was no ignoring that. Takao would simply rely on his own formidable skills to ensure that the night went off without a hitch, and that Kuroko and Shin-chan never learned that they were being manipulated.

And there he was, right on time - Kagami shuffled awkwardly outside the guest room, the one with the fussy doorknob that locked only on the outside. He caught his gaze and after a firm nod, Kagami reluctantly turned and entered the room. Now to enact the second step of the plan...Takao sighted Kuroko hanging on the fringes of the crowd all watching Hyuuga and Aida go at it, and approached him quietly. After taking a moment to make sure Midorima was still in the kitchen (serving drinks, the darling) he leaned over and murmured in Kuroko’s ear. “Hey. Kagami needs some help - something about Himuro texting him? I don’t know what the deal is... he’s definitely looking for you, though.”

The only indication that Kuroko cared at all was the faint hardening at the corners of his eyes. Had Takao’s own eyesight been less than supernaturally excellent, he would have missed it. “I see. Do you know where he is, Takao-kun?”

Takao jerked his thumb in the direction of the guest room, just as Kagami closed it. “Guest room.” He winked. “Want me to stand guard?”

“...There is no need for that, Takao-kun. Thank you for alerting me.” With that, Kuroko was gone. Takao frowned. His misdirection must be getting stronger, if he was able to pull a fast one on him like that…

Yet that was neither here nor there. His part in S.P.E.P. was just about done, and now, all relied on Kagami. There was nothing left to do other than to tease his beloved Princess Shin-chan…and if he was very lucky, trick him into imbibing in a drink or two.

…

…

…

…

…

Kagami leaned back against the western-style bed of Takao’s guest room, wondering what in god’s name was wrong with him. He had known as soon as Takao had outlined his plan that nothing good could come of this. Yet here he was, loitering in a dark room, waiting for Kuroko to come through the door and bust his chops for...well, whatever Takao told Kuroko that he was doing. Clearly, he wasn’t doing it. Just as clearly, he was hopeless.

The plan was simple when Takao had explained it. This was Kagami’s chance to seduce Kuroko, and that Kagami should be a master at this now that he’d had the most attractive man in their group of friends publically come onto him. That there was a distinct difference between Tatsuya screwing around and confessing to someone he actually _liked_ seemed to escape Takao, yet it was tying Kagami’s stomach up in knots. Most importantly, he had no idea how to seduce anyone. His current track record was to sit on the couch, and ask Ahomine what was wrong with eating burgers every day. Somehow, he didn’t think that was going to work on Kuroko-

The door opened, throwing him into a mental panic. He could feel the blush in his _ears_ and thanked god that the lights were off.

“Kagami-kun?”

It took him three tries to get sound out. “Ah. Yeah. Hey. Kuroko. Thanks for uh. Thanks for coming.”

Kuroko fumbled for the lightswitch and frowned when the lights did not come on. The door swung shut behind him and Kagami swallowed thickly, hoping Kuroko wouldn’t hear. His partner couldn’t possibly suspect that Takao had removed the lightbulbs earlier, in accordance to the Epic Plan he kept going on about, nor that he had just locked the door behind him. “Ah, yeah. I think the bulb’s gone out.” Now god help him. “Um, so-”

“Hold on a minute, Kagami-kun. I think I hear someone outside.” Kuroko turned back to the door and attempted to turn the handle, and Kagami could practically see his annoyed expression when the handle did not turn. From the sound of it, he was jimmying the doorknob ineffectually. “Kagami-kun? Does this door lock automatically?”

Kagami shrugged, feeling like a two-bit actor in the school play. “Ahh...maybe?”

“From the outside?”

“Look, it’s not my house, I don’t know!”

Kuroko turned back to him, and the porch lights streamed through the window, giving off just enough light for Kagami to see his disgruntled expression. God. He was so friggin’ cute. “Look. I’ll call Takao or something in a minute, but in the meantime, can I- well, I need- agh. I can’t do this.”

Kuroko took a step closer to him, so that he stood directly in the shaft of porch light. “Takao informed me that you needed help with Himuro-san and his text messages. Just tell me what you need me to do, and it will be done. I told you that you could rely on me, and I mean it, Kagami-kun. I would be a poor shadow if I did not.”

Kagami’s mouth went dry, and his heart started thundering in his chest. Was it possible to die from something like this? From Kuroko’s ultimate cuteness? His mind spinning, caught between prudence and his desires, he blurted out, “I’m confused.”

Kuroko’s eyebrow rose. “As am I. Are you confused about what you need help with? Perhaps you should let me read the texts first, and then I can help you decide-”

“Not about - there’s no...agh. I’m not confused about any texts. I’m confused about myself.” Kagami rubbed at his forehead, willing his blush away and trying not to grimace. He was such a terrible liar. That was part of the reason why Takao had insisted on removing the lightbulb - what Kuroko couldn’t see, he wouldn't readily question, after all.

“In what way?” Only the content marked the delivery as a question. Kuroko’s voice was dull and flat, almost as if he knew exactly where this was going...no! He couldn’t think like that! Otherwise he’d defeat himself before he would have a chance!

Stuttering like an idiot would get him nowhere, however. Summoning all his courage, Kagami took a deep breath and lied like hell. “I’m confused about what happened at that party. You know. And I need your help.”

Kuroko’s face was as pale and still as a marble statue, and for a terrifying moment Kagami thought he’d broken him. But then he swallowed, and his gaze flickered down to the floor. “I don’t understand. If Kagami-kun has feelings for Himuro-san, I do not see how I could possibly help him.”

Oh lord love a duck. How could Kuroko be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time? “No, I don’t- at least, not like _that_ , but…” Maybe Kuroko could be forgiven for being an idiot when Kagami couldn’t speak in complete sentences. Oh, to hell with it all. “I need you to kiss me.”

Almost immediately, Kagami’s inner voice of wisdom began screaming like a ninny.

Kuroko’s head shot up, his eyes wide and unguarded. His expression caused the rarely used voice of wisdom to stop screeching as abruptly as it began, and for the first time all night Kagami suspected Takao’s plan might succeed, after all. “ _What?”_

Now that he’d manned up enough to say it, Kagami’s floodgates burst and his reasoning came tumbling out. “I gotta’ know, ok? If it was the kiss, or Tatsuya, or hormones, or...or I don’t know what else. And you’re the only person I wan- could trust with this. ‘Cuz you’re my shadow. And I trust you and li- get along with you and rely on you all the time and so will you? Please? Otherwise I think I’m going to go a little crazy, here.” He looked miserably down at himself. “Although I think I am already.”

There was a long moment of silence, stretching between them and fraying Kagami’s nerves one by one. Yet then, “Kagami-kun.” Kuroko took a step towards him, and Kagami stared dumbly down at him. “Kagami-kun,” Kuroko repeated. “If you want me to do this, you will have to sit down.”

Oh. _Oh._ Yeah, he could do that. Kagami sat down on the bed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and then he was only a couple inches below eye level with Kuroko, and oh shit his eyes were right there, and undoubtedly could see his blush, and-

Kuroko leaned in, brushing his mouth against his. It was soft and sweet and everything that Tatsuya’s kiss was not, but it still made Kagami’s heart pound like a jackhammer and his lips part automatically. Oh god. He was going to embarrass himself, he _knew_ it, but Kuroko was _kissing_ him with no fuss at all, and there was no way he was ever getting over this-

His shadow broke off the kiss and leaned back just far enough to take in Kagami’s helpless expression. “Was that adequate, Kagami-kun?”

Too late he remembered to look away, and Kuroko’s own eyes widened at the longing he no doubt saw. His tongue stilled traitorously in his mouth, and all he could do was glance back at his shadow, mentally willing him to finish what he had started.

“If Kagami-kun is... _undecided_ , I suppose it was not enough. Would he like me to try again?”

There was a strange gleam in Kuroko’s eyes, and it was this that unstuck Kagami’s tongue, and emboldened him enough to lean forward. “ _Yeah.”_

Their lips met again, and it was no longer a chaste gesture. Fear and the fragility of the moment no longer held Kagami back, and he slanted his mouth over Kuroko’s, practically shaking in excitement. His arms were stiff at his side, clutching the bed in an effort to keep from cupping Kuroko’s face between his hands, a romantic gesture that he feared would give him away. Yet sweet jesus, Kuroko tasted so damn good, and was such a perfect juxtaposition of soft lips and strong jaw that it made Kagami’s head spin. All he could do was channel his feelings through his kiss, and hope that his partner felt it half as much as he did.

Kuroko felt none of Kagami’s reluctance. His hands rested on his light’s shoulders, gripping them firmly as he angled his jaw to gain better access to Kagami’s mouth. Then, slowly, one hand slipped behind Kagami’s neck to catch at the base of his head, sliding against his cropped hair. The kiss grew deeper, and it made him bold - Kuroko stepped between Kagami’s parted legs, leaning down so that there could be no space at all between their hungry mouths. He then let his free hand rest high on Kagami’s thigh, only inches away from Kagami’s burgeoning erection.

It was this that brought Kagami back to his senses. He pulled back, and all he could think of was that if Kuroko realized how much he liked where this was going, he’d never get any of this again. It was with this in mind that he attempted to verbally respond to Kuroko’s questioning stare, and coupled with his natural stupidity and excitement he fell flat on his face. “Woah, woah no good-” It was only when he saw Kuroko’s expression change from aroused to flat that he realized his mistake. “Wait, no! Yes, good! Ku-Kuroko!”

But it was too late. Kuroko hauled off and smacked him with the amount of force he usually reserved for his ignite pass kai. Kagami fell back on the bed, stars clouding his vision. For a moment he passed out of awareness, yet as he returned he could have sworn that he saw a bright shaft of light cut across the guest room floor. The door. Kuroko had managed to open the door (probably through his magical powers, Kagami thought disjointedly) yet more importantly Kagami had fucked. Everything. Up.

As soon as his vision cleared he shot up, stumbling to the door in an effort to salvage something. How could he have been so stupid? Kuroko had been doing him a favor and had maybe even _liked_ it and Kagami had told him it was no good? He hadn’t even meant it like that! Stupid American upbringing! Stupid panic! Stupid self!

He raced down the hallway, tearing through the living room - _oh shit, was that Coach? And Captain? Damn, he hadn’t realized Coach was so bendy -_ but couldn't find his shadow. Where would Kuroko have gone? Damn, he’d even take Takao at the moment, seeing as his plan had failed spectacularly. And although he could see Kiyoshi, Izuki and Shuutoku’s old center by the punch bowl, and Kise on the floor, covered with what appeared to be pineapples and that Kasamatsu guy, he couldn’t find his target or the host…

“You did _what?!”_ Midorima’s anguished yell cut through the music, and Kagami’s head whipped around. There. Only one person could make Midorima yell like that, and Takao was better than nothing. He raced into the kitchen, skidding on the tiles to see-

Oh. Well. He certainly hadn’t expected _that._

…

…

…

…

…

_-Twenty minutes ago-_

Takao had planned on a nice, relaxing party after locking the Seririn stars in his guest room. But he had also invited Kise, and the model had apparently chosen tonight to act on a heretofore unsuspected attraction to Midorima Shintarou. Therefore, the evening had officially gone to shit.

“Ahnnn, Midorimachii! It’s been so long!”

_(It had been two days, you dumb blonde.)_

“It’s been two days, Kise. Is your short term memory really that bad?”

_(Well done, Shin-chan. Now, tell him to get the hell off of you, and to bother his own damn Captain.)_

“Awwww, so harsh! But that’s what I love about you, Midorimachii!”

_(Ugh. Get the hell off of him, Kise!)_

“That is not what you love most about me. Those would be my three-pointers.”

_(That’s right, tell him- wait. What?!)_

Kise was as surprised as Takao. “Midorimachii! You’re playing along! I - I don’t know what to say!” The blonde snuggled up tighter to his old teammate, shooting a calculating glance over at Kasamatsu, who had just crushed his plastic cup in a fit of sheer rage. Kise then fluttered his eyelashes up at Midorima. “Does this mean you’re finally noticing me? After all this time?”

_(OVER MY DEAD BODY.)_

“No. I simply could not let such a blatant lie stand as truth.”

Takao relaxed. Of course Shin-chan wasn’t actually getting along with Kise, even if he _had_ tricked him into consuming one of the drinks he’d handed out earlier. Two, actually. Still, it wasn’t enough to make Shin-chan actually _like_ Kise-

“This would mean that your love of my unforgiving exterior is only second to my skills as a shooting guard, as is abundantly clear.”

_Oh, hell no._ Kise’s eyes widened and so did Takao’s. Whatever the hell was going on here was not ok. Takao glanced around and caught Miyaji’s eye, taking a break from balefully staring at Seirin’s coach and captain who were halfway to getting it on in his living room. He jerked his head over at Kise, who through his effortless conquest of women had earned Miyaji’s undying hatred more than Shin-chan and his eccentricities ever could. Then, he mouthed the word _flirting._

Miyaji’s eyes narrowed. “Kimuraaaaa! Pineapple!”

Thus began the melee. Kimura deposited a pineapple into Miyaji’s waiting hand - a conditioned reflex after their year with Shin-chan and himself - and their former senpai launched the fruit at Kise and Midorima. Yet Midorima, who had developed a sixth sense from all the pineapples thrown at him during their time together, pulled himself out of the pineapple’s path, leaving Kise alone to take the blow. It was a magnificent hit, and Kise staggered back from the force of the blow before falling gracefully to the floor.

“Kise! You dumb bastard!” Kasamatsu stepped over his former teammate and picked up the pineapple. He glanced at the fruit, and then at Miyaji, and settled for kicking the writhing miracle on the floor.

Kise immediately began to blubber. “Why, senpai…?”

Kasamatsu’s eyes narrowed, and it was obvious he was searching his soul. Then, with an anguished yell, he reared back and threw the pineapple back at Miyaji, clipping him on the shoulder. “Argh, I can’t do it! Kise’s the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me but he’s still Kaijou’s property! Only we can fuck with him! Take that!”

Miyaji cracked his neck in anticipation. “Kimura? It is time. Ready the crate.”

“Yes, sir.”

Takao tried to imagine the state of his living room tomorrow, but then shrugged. Oh well. The party had been getting a bit stale, anyways. He grabbed Shin-chan’s hand and yanked him after him into the kitchen, so that neither of them would be pelted by stray pineapples. Then, he put on his best, feminine pout, his saddest eyes, and stared up at his best friend. “Shiiiiin-chan. Were you flirting with Kise? I don’t know if Kasamatsu-senpai will like that...and that man likes to kick.”  
Midorima huffed as he straightened his arms, and Takao nearly forgot how to be upset. This was his _favorite_ huff of displeasure, the one Shin-chan only did when he was either extremely tired, or at the end of his rope. Takao fought down tingles as his ace responded. “Don’t be ridiculous, Takao. I was doing nothing at all. If Kise chooses to make a fool of himself - and it’s an occurrence we are all intimately acquainted with, mind you - that is his problem. Do not make that face at me. All I did was stand there. I am blameless.”

Takao looked down slyly, pursing his lips in an expression that he knew made him look enchanting. He had practiced, after all. “Shin-chan didn’t look too upset about it though. He went right along in Kise’s pace! Maybe he’s starting to like his old teammate more than he expected?”

Shin-chan’s response would determine whether or not he was hiding a body tonight. The rickshaw was multi-purpose, after all.

“So what if I did? It’s no different than you and your girls.”

Takao blinked, wrath temporarily diverted by astonishment. Midorima had muttered at the end, embarrassment quieting his voice too late. With flushing cheeks and a small wince, the shooting guard turned away from him, recognizing that he had crossed the line they had established months ago. Takao swallowed the grin that threatened to break the moment. Here it was - the moment he had been cultivating for _years_ \- the moment when Shin-chan finally acknowledged that he liked him, needed him, and perhaps even loved him. He boxed his friend into the corner, reaching around him to grip his taped fingers. Even though he still refused to look at him, (that beautiful tsundere) he still let him hold his hand. Giddy with excitement, Takao brought Shin-chan’s left hand to his lips, kissed it, and then made a tactical error. “There are no girls, Shin-chan. There never was. Even that one night can be explained! Honestly, you tsundere, if you’d just let me explain _then_ … Argh, you’re as stubborn as Kagami! What is it with miracles and wasting time?”

Takao didn’t realize his mistake until Midorima half turned, eyes narrow in suspicion. “Kagami? I had not realized you were privy to Kagami’s deliberations. Takao. _Explain.”_

_Oh shit._ “Ahhh it’s nothing Shin-chan! We just spoke a bit earlier, when I invited him to the party. Nothing serious.”

Midorima’s eyes narrowed further. “I do not believe you. Do you trust me so little, Takao? Can you not tell me even this?”

Takao’s heart lodged itself in his esophagus. When had Shin-chan learned to doubt him? He frantically weighed his options. Either he could hold his silence or attempt to lie again, and risk another misunderstanding that might push their happiness back another few months, if not permanently. Or, he could just tell him, and hope that Shin-chan would see it as altruistic, rather than devious. “Well…” Oh, who was he kidding? Now that he’d had a taste of interested Shin-chan he couldn’t go another unspecified period of time without it! So, he told him.

“You did _what?!”_

“It was for a good cause, Shin-chan! It’s obvious they’re in love with each other!”

Midorima spun abruptly, and the flung Takao away from him. The point guard fell back against the opposite counter, knocking over the half-empty bowl of alcohol and dousing himself in a heady mixture of rum, triple sec, and fruit punch.

It was at this moment that Kagami ran into the kitchen, took one glance at the sopping wet Takao, and blurted out, ”Oh, uh. Um. Is this a bad time?”

Takao narrowed his eyes at Midorima, who was doing his best to ignore both the other men in the kitchen. “Pretty much.” He looked around for a towel, and settled on drying himself with paper towels. “How can I help you, Kagami?”

“I’m not apologizing,” Midorima cut in, gaze fixed firmly on the floor. There were spots of color on his cheeks but Takao couldn’t tell if they were from embarrassment or anger. “You were wrong, Takao. You shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to kill us all, now. And I _trusted_ you, and you had said-” He trailed off, finally looking at his partner. Now Takao could see flush was neither embarrassment or anger, but sheer helplessness. “I’m going home.”

“Shin-chan, wait-” Takao grabbed for his friend but the dark look his shot him made him pull back.

“No, Takao. I need some time to think. I will call you tomorrow.” Then, with a stiff nod to the still gaping Kagami, Midorima exited the kitchen. All Takao could do was watch him leave, covered in alcohol and seething inwardly.

Yet that didn’t solve the problem of Kagami, who had grown used to the oddity of the situation and had begun to fidget. “Um, Takao?”

He really did not have the patience for this. “ _What.”_

“I did a bad thing. A thing that is bad. I did it.”

Was the man speaking in English or something? The disjointedness caught Takao’s attention and he sighed as he turned to the power forward. “What? Tell me what it is you did.”

He did.

“What?! You what?! For the love of all that is holy - he was _kissing you_ and you said it was _no good?!_ Seriously, man. How have you lived this long?”

Kagami scowled. “Yes! I’m an idiot! I _know_ that! So you gotta’ help me, ok? Have you seen Kuroko?”

“Of course I haven’t seen him - I locked the door, didn’t I?” Wait. _Had_ he? He _thought_ he had…fussy lock _indeed._ He looked at Kagami with narrowed eyes. “Crap. If you’re both out….shit, no. I haven’t seen him.” Takao raked his hands through his hair and groaned. “Shit. This means we’re fucked, doesn’t it.”

By this point Kagami was nearly dancing with frustration. “If we don’t hurry up and _find_ him, yeah. So let’s go! Use your hawkeye and help me! Please!”

Well, what else could he do? Shin-chan had exiled him, and he knew better than to try and push him when he was being that serious. Besides, Kagami was a large, muscle-bound male, and who knew what he would do in a fit of desperation? Takao sighed, and squelched a path through his kitchen to the closet. “Yeah, ok. Let me just change my shoes, first.”

So much for his masterwork. S.P.E.P. had crashed and burned...

…

…

…

…

…

It didn’t take long for Takao and Kagami to determine that Kuroko was no longer in the house. It did take an extremely grumpy Aomine to figure out where he was, however.

( _Aomine sat hunched over, visibly suffering as Momoi tied his wrists to the arms of the chair. The party had dwindled down into a exhibitionist review, wherein Kiyoshi performed a moving monologue over his two best friends getting it on. Aomine, who had become too appreciative for Momoi’s tastes, had been removed to the guest room by feminine methods Kagami could not even begin to guess at. They ran across them at a telling moment. “Now, watch carefully, Dai-chan,” she said as she settled in front of him, whipping out her clipboard from who knew where. “I know you’re having a hard time with the entire concept, so I am prepared to break it down for you. Today, I’m going to teach you about love.” She flipped over the top sheet on her clipboard dramatically. “Part one: poetry.”_

_Aomine growled._

_Takao wasted no time. He darted forward to Aomine, and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Before Aomine could do more than sneer, he had tapped out a quick message to Kuroko, taking care to keep in his perception of Aomine’s character. Kagami supposed it must have been effective, as Kuroko’s reply buzzed back a moment later:_ Not now, Aomine-kun. Besides, I am already home.

_Instead of returning the phone to Aomine, he gave it to Momoi, instead. Momoi raised her eyebrows, but shooed them away rather quickly. “Go on, boys. Dai-chan is getting an education. And believe me. You do_ not _want to be here for it.”_

_Aomine muttered something that sounded suspiciously like_ I’ll educate _you_ as soon as I get out of this. _No one remarked on the obvious fact that the only thing keeping him from escape were Momoi’s scarf and headband, and that being so, that he possibly had a better understanding of the concept of love than he’d like to admit. His best friend glanced at him thoughtfully, and smiled. She then sauntered over and settled herself in her Aomine’s lap, and held the clipboard up directly in front of his face. Aomine paled. “We will begin with the quatrain…”)_

The boys had beat a hasty retreat, scuttling into the kitchen before they could witness firsthand Momoi’s teaching methods. Then Takao had turned to him, and asked the million dollar question. “So. What will you do?”

He hadn’t known then, and he certainly didn’t know now, trudging home in the dark, an obvious if not quite easy prey for the teenage hooligans that roamed the streets at night. At the moment, he couldn’t give a sweet muffin for his personal safety as he was far too absorbed in mapping out potential disastrous situations. Even if Kuroko didn’t kill him - and he might not, as lights were major investments, or so Kuroko had once told him - their friendship was fucked. You didn’t just kiss someone, mistakenly tell them it was no good and then fall back into your previous relationship. And even if Kuroko was somehow able to do it, Kagami certainly couldn’t. He’d had too much riding on tonight, not just in terms of his feelings for his best friend, but also for his self-respect.

Kagami let himself into the apartment, hanging up his jacket and laying his wallet, keys, and phone neatly out on the clean coffee table. After a moment of staring at it indecisively, he picked up his phone and made his way out to the balcony. It was a clear night, with plenty of moonlight to see by, so it was easy enough to find Kuroko’s contact information. It was much harder to write the text and actually send it to him, however.

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it._

And then, after he’d pressed send and had a minute to panic over it further, _I want to see you. Tomorrow. At our outdoor court. I’ll be there all day, so just come if you want to talk._

A minute after that was time enough to realize he was coming off as far too American. Leaving nothing to chance, he sent one last message: _Please._ Then, Kagami turned off his cell phone, knowing that there was little chance of Kuroko replying tonight, and even less that he would come over and let Kagami confess when his heart was somewhat prepared. It would also be far too easy to blow up Kuroko’s cell with muddled texts of explanation, ones that would probably sink all Kagami’s chances. No, he had to focus tonight, and do his best to present himself coherently tomorrow... _if_ Kuroko came to see him.

Kagami let himself back into his living room, settling down on the couch. He laid his cell phone down on the table in front of him, perfectly spaced with his keys and wallet. After a moment of thought, he unhooked his necklace and lay it down alongside them. Only when everything in his vision was precisely aligned could he allow himself to reflect on what he could possibly tell Kuroko that would explain his behavior...although he suspected it all boiled down to his crippling fear of love.

Kagami winced. How in god’s name was _that_ going to persuade Kuroko to like him back? He’d best begin at the beginning, and then he could figure out the key points later. Yet that might not be much better, especially with how angry his early life always made Tatsuya. What if Kuroko had a similar reaction?

Well, it was certainly better than Kuroko being angry at _him._ Sighing, Kagami leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving the necklace on the table. He supposed he might as well begin with the worst. Then it could only get better. So. _It had taken Kagami a very long time to realize that his family was not what most would consider normal…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize to Furihata, Fukuda, and Kawahara. It seems as if their only role in my stories are to wander around with iPod and speakers, and man the music. Not that manning the music isn’t essential in the production of a good party, as any partygoer knows. Still. My apologies to the good gentlemen.   
> ...  
> I also apologize to Elton John, and Kise who always seems to get the short end of the stick in all my fics. I’m sorry. I think I’m allergic to shoujo sparkles.


	5. The Third Confession: Kagami Taiga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more angsty than the other chapters, and perhaps a darker take on Kagami's past than the manga warrants. I think it brings up a good question though. Would *you* let your middle schooler live on their own halfway across the world? (Ok I wouldn't, but this is just me.)

It had taken Kagami a very long time to realize that his family was not what most would consider normal. In fact, it wasn’t until they left Japan that he had begun to realize that most families had parents that spoke to each other above three sentences a day, took family pictures, slept in the same bedroom, didn’t take off every weekend for ‘business trips,’ sat together for meals, and didn’t rely on their seven-year-old child to prepare the meal in the first place. Although it took him a few more years to articulate the dysfunction in his parent’s relationship, his eyes had been opened during his first parent-teacher conference when his mother, who had made it quite clear that she had taken valuable time off from work to attend, surprised Taiga’s teacher by speaking English fluently.

_But your son can barely speak English,_ his young, handsome teacher had exclaimed, with more honesty than tact.

His mother was unconcerned. _Oh, can’t he? We’ll have to get him a tutor, then._

Taiga remembered the burning humiliation of barely being able to follow their conversation, yet he had remembered the odd look on his teacher’s face even more. It was as if he had swallowed a lemon, and even at a young age he knew the lemon the teacher had swallowed was his mother. And when he remembered that his father was also fluent in English, he felt as if he had swallowed a lemon, too.

Opened eyes are terribly difficult to close. Especially when the mentioned tutor never materialized, and Taiga found himself in danger of failing third grade. If his teacher hadn’t personally intervened, half learning Japanese in order to give Taiga a decent background in English, he would have never made it out of elementary school. As it was, it taught him a few important life lessons: that there was something terribly wrong with his family, although it was never to be spoken of. More importantly, if he wanted something, he had to do it all by himself.

He had met Tatsuya the next year, walking home to an empty house where all he could think of to do was to watch cooking shows on television - the one thing that improved his English that he enjoyed doing. He hadn’t even noticed him until he had spoke up, in Japanese so natural that it made Taiga’s heart tighten. _Are you Japanese? I thought so! Come on, let’s go play!_

Taiga, with his stilted English, funny eyebrows and painful honesty had never been popular. Tatsuya, with his charmingly accented English, good looks and calm demeanor, was. Inexplicable as it was to Taiga, the boys bonded over basketball, and he worshipped the ground Tatsuya walked for giving him something to excel at beyond cooking. More than that, Tatsuya became the family he chose, and as an older brother figure quickly became the only person he loved.

That number had grown to two when they had stumbled across Alexandra Garcia, and after weeks of wearing her down, became her students. The woman was brash and confident and quite frankly terrifying, but she was also gifted, patient, and utterly open with her affections. The boys were like small flowers underneath her sun, and they had bloomed both on and off the court under her care. Now Taiga had people to think about and talk to, and to cook for when they invaded his empty home every other weekend. More importantly, he had people to care about, and his loneliness seemed to evaporate like the water he’d boil for Alex’s favorite meals.

The confidence that he slowly learned on the court had begun to seep into his schooling, and his grades and his social life slowly improved. As long as he had Alex and Tatsuya, he felt that he could do anything. Life had finally become something to enjoy, rather than simply to withstand.

...

Taiga’s skill on the court grew rapidly, and every game was a heady rush of excitement. His love of the game was such that he never cared when he lost, and it never occurred to him that Tatsuya felt any differently. Yet then had come their separation, ultimatum and the 100 game streak that would determine their bond. Unable to stomach the thought of losing Tatsuya as his older brother, he had thrown the penultimate game, and in doing so, seemingly lost his brother anyway. _Take me seriously,_ Tatsuya had screamed, clutching Taiga’s necklace, the twin of his own. _I’ll never forgive you if you don’t! The next one will decide it all, Taiga - and if you win, I won’t allow myself to be your brother anymore!_

Reeling from the imminent loss of his best friend Taiga had stumbled home into an even greater upheaval. _We’re getting a divorce_ , his father calmly told him, sitting by his mother’s side for the first time in Taiga’s memory. _I will be staying here, and your mother is moving to New York. We are both prepared to take you. Where would you like to live?_

Faced with the dragon at his back and the abyss below his feet, Taiga walked into the unknown with a frankness and surety that surprised even him. He had looked his father in the eye and said, _I’m not picking either of you. I’m going back to Japan._

His parents had fought him on it, but he had held firm, and within three days they had given in. Truthfully, it was easier than he’d expected. He didn’t even have to call upon Alex and her friend in social services to convince them that Taiga’s living on his own was the best solution for all of them. And when he had convinced them things had moved so quickly - his father renting the apartment in his own name, transferring out of his middle school into an unknown Japanese one, saying goodbye to Alex, who had driven separately to the airport just so she could kiss him in front of his disapproving parents. There wasn’t even time to say goodbye to Tatsuya, who had fallen ill with fever two night before.

It was only when he was seated in the plane that Taiga allowed himself to wonder if he was really making a new, healthier life for himself or if he was running away.

…

_Expectations taste more bitter than you’d think,_ Alex had once said. After arriving in Japan, Taiga completely agreed with her. He had been a foreigner all his life, and so a part of him had believed he was coming home. But after all those years in America, home had apparently shifted. His native tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he found himself thinking in English more often than not. Food - the non-basketball related compass of his existence - was suddenly something he didn’t know how to prepare, and many of his favorite meals became impossible to recreate. Worst of all, he had forgotten just about all the kanji he had ever learned. He could read basics, but anything more in depth than a sign or an advertisement had him guessing on at least half the content.

He had gotten used to the size of L.A.; the mingling of different languages and the colors of people’s skin; the smell of exotic foods and the open way of life. Japan seemed so small and homogenous in comparison, and Taiga found himself sticking out like a sore thumb. It didn’t help that he was physically taller and stronger than nearly all the kids his age. He was once again the misfit, and by the time he graduated middle school there was no one he could call his friend. There was only thing he was sure of, and it was basketball...although even _that_ was different in Japan!

And by the time he had lost all hope, he had met _him._ Kuroko. The quiet, unassuming boy who had looked up at him with those expressionless eyes and told him that he’d make him the best in Japan. Now, Taiga knew he was an idiot, but even he wasn’t _that_ dumb. No one just came up out of nowhere and attached themselves to a person like that, especially someone like him. Three days of class convinced Taiga of this. Kuroko was calm, smart, well-mannered and well-spoken, and in Taiga’s mind, the epitome of the Japanese male. Why would he have any need for someone like Taiga, so awkward and brash and lumbering, completely out of place and unable to read most of the teacher’s notes?

( _Besides teasing the hell out of him, of course. The blank-faced bastard seemed to know just what to do to make him blow his stack, and Taiga spent whole class periods wondering whether there was some sort of manual for needling returnees, if this could technically be considered bullying, and if Kuroko actually enjoyed making him sputter like an idiot. What was he saying. Of course he did! Otherwise he wouldn’t have written his resolve on the school’s lawn! Taiga was fairly sure he was never getting over that. He was blushing now just remembering it.)_

The answer came, however, when Kuroko unleashed his potential on the court, and they had fallen into each other’s rhythm like pieces of a puzzle. That first practice Taiga had been practically vibrating with excitement, and it had taken all his strength not to blow his cool. Even playing with Tatsuya hadn’t been like that - hell, he’d never suspected the sport could be _played_ like that. And when the next practice had been just as good, and the next, the next, and the next after that even better, Taiga was so grateful he could hardly sleep at night.

Yet on the heels of that appreciation came that familiar insecurity. There was no way Kuroko actually liked _him_ , it was just his capabilities on the court. Even if he did not mind his company, Kuroko would eventually leave him as well...just like his parents and Tatsuya. So Taiga had protected himself by wrapping his fears around him like a blanket, and when he had told Kuroko that cooperation wasn’t everything after their devastating loss to Touou, he had recognized that crossroads for exactly what it was. He had failed Kuroko, and now Kuroko would go off and find a new light to support. Taiga certainly didn’t blame him - by that point, even he could see Kuroko’s resolve, and he could do nothing but respect it.

What he had not expected was Kuroko to come chasing him down a week later, so desperately that he hadn’t even planned what he’d wanted to say. So Taiga had made it easy for him: _Why did you pick me?_ After a lifetime of his parents' evasions and lies, Kuroko’s truth had been, while painful enough to make his throat clench, refreshing. In the back of his mind he had expected nothing less. There was simply the validation of having been right to protect himself, because otherwise the loss of Kuroko would have devastated _him._ So he had assured Kuroko that there was nothing to worry about, that he had knew it all along. ( _And he had. The only reason he felt even the slightest bit upset now was because this was the honesty he had craved all his life and it was coming from a boy who used it to put their basketball relationship on rocky ground.)_ Life would continue as usual, and he certainly wasn’t going to switch schools or anything. They would just be teammates now. None of this light and shadow business that Taiga wasn’t sure he understood in the first place, anyway.

Yet it appeared he had underestimated Kuroko once again. As soon as he had turned his back on his teammate Kuroko had come up with what was the second most amazing thing anyone had ever said to him, behind only Tatsuya’s earnest assurances that brothers loved each other best. _But I was wrong, Kagami-kun. You showed me that with your passion, and your determination, and your inability to give up. What’s more, you never gave up on_ me _, even when I’d given up on myself. Because of you, I’m not playing to defeat Teikou anymore. I am Seirin’s Kuroko now. So if you’ll forgive me, I will have to change our promise. I won’t make you the number one in Japan. I will make our_ team _the number one in Japan._

Taiga had never thought about his existence having an impact on other’s, before. At least, not in a positive way. Faced with Kuroko’s blazing resolve and perhaps even admiration, this was the best he’d felt since coming to Japan. It was potent enough for him to forget his caution, and he had smiled naturally, letting his guard down for the first time in over a year.

By the time they made their way back to their homes, he had even loosened up enough to jokingly asked if this meant Kuroko was done being his shadow. ( _Kuroko had looked up at him and the streetlights reflected in his eyes. Like stars, Taiga had thought, and had nearly tripped over his own feet in mortification.)_ Kuroko hadn’t reacted to that, however. _Of course not, Kagami-kun. I did not rescind that part of my promise, after all. Besides, I believe it is imperative that I remain at your side._

Taiga hadn’t understood. _But it’s not me, now, it’s our whole team. So why…?_

_Kagami-kun is so modest. Of course it is because he is still my light, no?_

What could he possibly say to that? Flustered once again ( _Taiga would suspect that Kuroko was teasing him even now, except for the declaration that was still echoing inside his bones)_ he simply held out his fist to pound, in a gesture that meant far more that Kuroko would ever know. This wasn’t simply an acknowledgement of their partnership, nor of Kuroko’s resolve (both of which were weighty matters already). It was also a sign of Taiga’s unspoken promise: regardless of his own fears, insecurities, and complete inability to retain the people he loved, he would try one more time. He would be Kuroko’s partner, even if he felt he was unsuitable for the task. He would trust in Kuroko, even if it meant being betrayed (again) down the road….and even if - and right at that moment it didn’t seem so far-fetched - he came to value Kuroko more than his shadow ever could in return.

…

Weeks passed, and just as his life had improved once Tatsuya befriended him, it happened again with Kuroko. Slowly but surely his Japanese improved, and he remembered more of the writing every day. Better still, now he had someone to talk to, eat lunch with, and wake him up in class before the teacher could draw on his face with chalk (again.) He wouldn’t go so far as to call Kuroko a friend (at least out _loud_ ) but he was content, and the darkness that had closed in around him since his parent’s divorce dissipated quickly, and in one of Taiga’s less lucid moments, he wondered if Kuroko’s shadow had somehow chased it away.

Most importantly, the team came together, completely unified and with a renewed determination after their loss to Touou. Taiga would never admit it (again, out loud) but he _liked_ the team, with all its peculiarities and personality. And he certainly liked the basketball they played, with a reliance on the run-and-gun and Kuroko’s and his plays. He just fit with them, not like he had with his American teams, but well enough to make Coach’s challenging practices enjoyable.

There were still a handful of awkward moments, however, and they tended to settle around girls. It seemed to be the hot topic in the locker room after practice, between the moans of pain and friendly bickering. Taiga only half listened, distracted by practice, Kuroko’s terrible physical endurance, and the effort involved in keeping his partner from collapsing onto the floor. Yet as the year went on their comments began to penetrate, and Taiga was forced to realize he was even more different than he’d thought when faced with his team’s open appreciations on the fairer sex...and his own indifference. ( _She is so cute! I’m going to confess tomorrow, just see if I don’t!_ And, _I want a girlfriend, Mitobeeeeee!_ And, _I can’t keep my eyes off of her - just look at how soft her hair is, and how big her eyes. I wish she was single…_ And, _don't you think_ _Coach is cute with longer hair, Hyuuga? Oh, look. You're blushing!_ And, _think of how nice it would be to hold her. She’d just fit right in your arms, so small and fragile…)_

Taiga didn’t get it, and luckily no one questioned him about it. He was the heralded basketball idiot of their team, after all, and no one expected him to think about _that_ kind of thing. But at the end of a practice only a week or so before their summer training camp, Taiga had looked down at his shadow and realized that Kuroko was all of those things. He had the big, blue eyes; soft hair; slim musculature, and was the perfect height to fold into his embrace. His expressions (when he showed them) were cute, his small sigh of delight after the first sip of his vanilla shakes was even cuter, and when Taiga imagined Kuroko sitting in his lap with one of his coy little half smiles (inspired by Fukuda’s monologue on the imagined delights of such a position) his heart started pounding in his chest. He had to fight down the urge to reach out and touch his partner, to see if his skin was as soft as it looked, and how his muscles felt underneath, and to see if he’d like touching him even better than simply thinking about it…

Taiga walked home from practice in a daze, forgoing even the usual Maji burger visit. He was not a great thinker, but he knew that this merited his best attention. Finding men handsome - his third grade teacher, for example - was one thing, but desiring someone he was close to was another. Especially someone _Japanese._ He had grown up seeing men holding hands with other men while grocery shopping, and women kissing their girlfriends on the street corner, so it didn’t bother him very much to realize that he was homosexual. What did bother him that he was attracted to the one person in the world he considered his friend. Kuroko, for all his eccentricities ( _and he had them, the knucklehead, even though he pretended to be the most normal of his friends)_ would not react well to being the object of Taiga’s affections. He would likely turn tail and run if he knew how Taiga know thought of him ( _small and handsome and perfect, even though he’s not really small or handsome or perfect at all, but he is to_ me _goddamnit)_ no matter how flamboyant Kise was, nor how emotionally dependent he’d been on Aomine. And even if he didn’t run? Even if he didn’t mind that his light was beginning to wonder what kissing was like and if doing it with him would ease the embers in his belly or stoke them even higher? That, Taiga suspected, was an even scarier alternative. Taiga had very little experience with emotional successes, after all. All he knew were endings and failures.

 

...

_(He decides to say nothing; biting his tongue and playing up his American awkwardness, hoping that nothing ever changed. He fails once, although it hurts no one but him. It’s the first night of training camp, and the echoes of his anger at having seen Aomine buy Kuroko a drink from the vending machine slowly drive him mad, making sleep pretty much impossible. He looks over to his side to watch Kuroko sleeping peacefully, and the desire to claim his shadow swells up and floods his common sense. After an embarrassingly long amount of time spent determining that no one else is awake except for him, he rolls over to his side and scooches forward until he is inches away from Kuroko’s sleeping face._ I am such a freaking creeper _, he thinks, before he leans in and brushes his lips against Kuroko’s cheekbone._

_Kuroko doesn’t wake, and no one saw. Still, Taiga smiles like an idiot the whole next day, even though he can’t look Kuroko in the eye.)_

_***_

The only noticeable cloud on the horizon is when he learns Tatsuya had come back to Japan as well. He would be hurt that Tatsuya hadn’t told him, but as he hadn’t told him that he was leaving in the first place, he knows he has no right to be angry. He brazens through their initial meeting with a smile and his English, and can’t help but notice that Tatsuya does the same. Then he sees Murasakibara behind him, and knows he has been replaced. ( _At this point, he’s unsurprised to realize that Kuroko knows Tatsuya’s new friend as well, as it seems pretty obvious that every single member of Teikou was some kind of wizard, and it’s only natural that they’d all convene at some point or another. Like they were in some sort of manga or something. Taiga just doesn’t get Japan._ )

Taiga mostly tries not to think about it. He does great until the Winter Cup and Seirin defeats Yousen in the quarter finals, and then Tatsuya begins crying in public on Murasakibara, of all people. Out it all comes - Tatsuya’s insecurity on his lack of godlike talent, and how he can’t stand when his new friend squanders it. Had that been why Tatsuya had pushed him away? Or had it been because Taiga had always been a threat to his superiority on the court? He doesn’t know, and at this point, it’s not his main priority. He’s much more concerned with celebrating with his team, and throwing a nonchalant arm around Kuroko’s shoulders when it looks as if his shadow will fall.

Yet he’s happy enough when Tatsuya apologizes the next day. Tatsuya was his first friend and his older brother figure, and there’s no coming back from that. Although he’s now no longer the most important person in his life, it means a lot to him that Tatsuya had missed him too and that their friendship is restored. So much so that a couple months later, when Tatsuya comes down to Tokyo to spend a weekend with him, he reveals that he’s in lo- _has feelings for_ Kuroko.

(Tatsuya’s eyebrows went halfway to his hairline, and Taiga is privately sure he will never look that surprised again. _So much for his pokerface_ , he thinks, before Tatsuya starts sputtering in English. _What? Kuroko? What? You’re gay? Jesus, Taiga, couldn’t you pick someone with solid form?_

_He’s not a ghost, Tatsu-nii_ , Taiga informed him tiredly. _And Alex doesn’t need to know. Neither does anyone else. Swear to me that you won’t tell anyone. Swear it on our rings._

Tatsuya brushed his ever-present bangs out of his eye just so he could verify his friend’s sincerity, and Taiga knew he was in trouble if even Tatsuya didn’t believe him. _I swear, I swear. But I’m still having a hard time with this, Tai. Are you sure? With him? Ugh. Alex is going to have a field day with this. Well. On the plus side, if he ever breaks your heart, I can just have Atsushi sit on him._

_Not helping, Tatsu-nii...)_

Unfortunately, Tatsuya took Taiga’s chastisement to heart. Within a week he had come up with three distinct plans for Taiga to woo Kuroko, and after another two weeks of his constant nagging, Taiga broke down and agreed to implement the least invasive of the plans. Tatsuya would call every day when Seirin’s stars were together, and Taiga would see how Kuroko reacted. That was it. Just to test the waters. Nothing more, nothing less.

Four days in and Taiga was faced with an unfamiliar quandary, however. He’d known Kuroko long enough to know that Tatsuya’s calls annoyed him. One day more and it was confirmed: Kuroko was upset. Whether it was with jealousy or from the repeated annoyance of having their extra practices interrupted Taiga couldn’t tell, but that there was a possibility of his being jealous tied Taiga’s stomach in knots. Yet it was from anxiety as well as hope. On an emotional level, Taiga still didn’t know what to do with love. Tatsuya’s apology and renewed friendship helped, but Taiga had never been in love before, and with his diminished emotional esteem negative feedback would be crippling. So instead of confronting Kuroko and asking about the reason why he was (obviously) avoiding Taiga, he had asked during practice, where it would be impossible for things to progress, for bad or for good. He had backed down even further when Kuroko’s explanation had been completely reasonable...and Kiyoshi had waggled his eyebrows at him.

_I’m just too afraid to lose him,_ he admitted to Tatsuya the next day over the phone. _What if he leaves me? What if he looks at me like they did? (And there is no explanation needed for_ they. _Tatsuya and Alex have long hated Taiga’s parents, to the point where Tatsuya’s father, the most genial, kind-hearted man in L.A., refuses to return Mr. Kagami’s nods on the street.)_

_You’re an idiot,_ Tatsuya sighs, and Taiga can practically see him roll his eyes. _First of all, your parents have nothing to do with this. They are assholes. Your ghost is not. And before you tell me you’ll have nothing left if he leaves - which he won’t - I will remind you that even I came back to you, and I am a prickly son of a preacher man. This is ignoring the rest of the entire goddamn generation of miracles - even_ Atsushi - _who inexplicably like you as well. Alex and the rest of your own team go without saying. You are not alone, Taiga. And you never will be again, no matter what happens with Kuroko._

Yet before Taiga could make the decision on his own, Tatsuya up and made it for him. The _thing_ at the party happened, and Taiga wasn’t sure whether he’d rather kill Tatsuya or kiss him again. Although the means were a little disturbing ( _Taiga never wanted to know how Tatsuya’s kissing expertise was earned)_ the ends put all his indecision to rest. According to Murasakibara (Tatsuya’s accomplice) Kuroko had been furious. So much so that when Taiga had returned from his bedroom and had a chance to glance up from the throng of his amazed friends, he was still radiating hate. At the time, he had been more than a little frazzled, as he’d had no idea his older brother figure was about to slip his tongue into his mouth. Yet even in that state of mind Kuroko’s glower had sent a spike of hope through him...and then he saw the man at Kuroko’s side. Midorima. Kuroko’s least favorite miracle. Perhaps the shooting guard had said something to him, and _that_ was the cause of Kuroko’s ire?

That matter was laid to rest a couple of days later, when Takao called him, out of the blue. He nattered on about some party he was going to have, and then proceeded directly into outlining this plan he was implementing. Taiga only half listened, putting the phone on speakerphone as he manically cleaned his apartment. Clutter had always drove him spare, and there was something soothing in the act of putting things back to rights. It was something he could control, at any rate, and since he couldn’t just arrive at Kuroko’s doorstep and force him to talk to him again, he would take what he could get.

He had just absentmindedly agreed with something Takao had just said, when his response pierced through his cleaning daze. _You agree then, Kagami? You should be decent at this by now, especially with your recent experience. I’ll lock you in the guest room, and then you two can get it on!_

Taiga eyes slid sideways, eyeing the phone like it was a small breed of dog. His mind belatedly made connections. _What?_

_Oh for the love of - Kagami, pay attention. The point of S.P.E.P. is this: to lock you and Kuroko in a room, so you two can..._ resolve _matters, if you know what I mean._

Taiga had begun to hyperventilate. _No, I don’t know what- jesus, Takao! What the fuck are you talking about?!_ Oh god. He had the hawkeye. _He knew._

Perhaps Takao had trained the hawkeye to read minds, as he continue with: _Please. I know. Hawkeye, remember? I saw that look you shot Kuroko, and I saw Murasakibara wince before Himuro moved to kiss you. I wasn’t sure if you were in on it-_

_I wasn’t,_ Kagami informed him miserably, seeing his long-kept secret slip through his fingers. _I really, really wasn’t._

_As I suspected. Well, let’s just say I’m in the know, now. And I’m feeling charitable. I am also a hell of a lot more subtle than Himuro, apparently. Anyway, here’s your chance to make things right with Kuroko. Are you going to take it?_

After Kuroko's apology and several days of careful thought, he had. He then proceeded to fuck everything up six ways from Sunday, and-

His phone rang, interrupting his train of thought. Hadn’t he turned his phone off? Jesus, couldn’t he do anything right? Taiga lunged forward and grabbed it, but it was only Takao. Wait. Why would Takao be calling him now?

_Maybe it was about Kuroko-_

Taiga answered somewhat breathlessly. “Hello?”

“Kagami! Did you call Akashi?”

Taiga took the phone away from his ear to look at it in confusion. “What? No, of course not. Why?”

“He’s here! In my home! Oh god. It must have been Kuroko. Oh _shit.”_ He hung up without saying goodbye, and Taiga frowned. Akashi hadn’t been crazy for quite a while now, but the threat of him regressing was ever present. Additionally, matters had always been strained between him and Takao. Kuroko had said it was something about the identity of Midorima’s true master, but Taiga had learned to think twice whenever Kuroko said something disparaging about Midorima. Still, Akashi turning up in the middle of the night to a party he wasn’t invited to wasn’t good, was it?

Taiga paled. He wouldn’t do something drastic...would he?

…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing this, I realize I have no freaking clue when Kagami actually came to America, nor when he left Japan in the first place. I am only about 3% sure I even know how old the characters actually are, at this point. Facts fall out of my head like it’s a fricking sieve, I suppose. Once again, please forgive my mistakes. Else I shall weep.   
> ...  
> Huge thanks to everyone who has kudo’d and bookmarked and reviewed, especially mfd, who caused me to make undignified noises at work with their spirited reviews. The office thanks you (as do I) for making all of our days ^_^


	6. The Fourth Confession - Takao Kazunari

**Chapter 6: The Fourth Tale - Takao**

 

 

 

            Takao was about to flip a goddamn table. Akashi Seijurou was in his house, smiling with the beatific calm of a saint, completely ignoring that fact that he had not been invited, nor had Takao ever told him where he lived. 

            “Good evening.  I realize it is quite late, but matters have progressed to the point where I feel it is best that I lend my assistance.  Although I must commend you for your actions so far.  Should I ask why half your home is covered in raw pineapple, however?”

            Takao was not following.  He had a few more immediate concerns to address.  “How the hell did you get into my house?  How did you even know where I live?  And what do you mean, ‘actions so far’?  Did Kuroko send you?”  His eyes widened as he considered further options.  “Did _Shin-chan_ send you?”

Akashi smiled, his patience untouched.  “Of course not.  Shintarou would be content to let us go our entire lives without meeting, which is a silly idea, seeing as how overdue our joining forces has been.  I’ve long admired your spunk, Kazunari.  Not many could pull off calling Shintarou ‘Shin-chan’ and live to tell the tale.  But I digress.  In terms of accessing your home, I have my ways.  More importantly, in terms of your plan to unite Tetsuya and Taiga, I simply used my superior eyes.  It was quite obvious _something_ was going on at that party, and it’s been obvious for far longer that Taiga and Tetsuya are making a horrible muddle of their feelings for each other.  What I had not expected was that you would be instrumental in bringing them together.  That surprised me.  Unless, of course, it is connected to your own affections for our hapless friend Shintarou.  In that case I quite understand.”

            In lieu of answering, Takao sat down abruptly on a relatively clean kitchen chair.  Akashi knew?  Akashi knew _everything?_   Yet even with his mind spinning and the disclosure of his secrets at hand, Takao couldn’t help but fight back.  “Shin-chan is not _hapless.”_

“Your loyalty is endearing, I assure you.  Now, are you going to tell me everything, or shall I continue to infer and possibly - _just possibly-_ miss a detail or two?  It really is in your best interest to share.  Then my methods become much more efficient.”

            It was 3 in the morning, Takao’s lower body was still uncomfortably crusted in dried alcohol, he may have wrecked his ambiguous relationship with Shin-chan, and Akashi was talking about methods.  Takao gave up.  He had been through a terribly uncomfortable evening, and he had fought the good fight, but it was all over.  Now that Akashi knew, he could rely on Midorima knowing everything by morning.  Unless he could somehow convince him to keep it to himself… “You want to know, huh?  Everything?”  It probably was not wise to announce his secrets to Akashi, but this was his one chance, and he would take it.  “You’re sure?”

            Akashi inclined his head towards the kitchen table, the one part of the kitchen that was not currently covered in pineapples and/or alcohol.  “If it’s not too much trouble.  I didn’t make the trip from Kyoto to Tokyo this early in the morning for nothing.”  He then reached down into his messenger bag, revealing a thermos.  “If you wouldn’t mind, could you provide two teacups?  It would have been horribly remiss of me to come without at least serving you tea.”

            As Takao rummaged through his cupboards looking for two clean cups ( _and just how had Miyaji-senpai gotten pineapple in there as well?)_ he reflected on the circus their lives had become.  It had started off with innocent parties, and then men started making kisses, and then there were pineapples, drama, and Akashi Seijurou serving you tea at 3 AM.  What had his life become?  What choices had he made that brought him to this? 

            It was falling in love with Shin-chan, he decided, as he settled into the chair across from Akashi, watching him pour the tea.  That was probably the answer for all his life’s present evils, although without him there would be very little that was good.

            “Whenever you are ready,” Akashi offered with a gracious nod that would not be out of place in a society group’s high tea.  Takao took a sip of his tea ( _piping, perfect, utterly impossible)_ before beginning.  “There are very few things that I _really_ want…”

…

…

…

…

…

            There were very few things Kazunari really wanted.  This was largely because there was very little Kazunari didn’t have.  He was smart, friendly, handsome and talented, and had never lacked for friends, entertainment, or opportunity.  Therefore it was easy for him to smile at everyone, and to enjoy every day as it came.  _People who enjoy life are winners_ was his mantra, and if he tried to make those around him enjoy life as well, he never thought anything of it. 

            He had begun playing basketball when all his friends did, and thanks to his agility, ball-handling skills, and what his mother laughingly called his ‘hawkeyes,’ he was his team’s starting point guard almost immediately.  For two years they had played together, winning far more than losing, making a good showing of themselves.  During their third year, however, that had changed.  They had known going into that fateful game that Teikou was a fearsome team, and it would take a miracle to defeat the miracles.  Yet nothing could have prepared them for how badly they would lose.

            Playing Teikou was like a lightning bolt to Kazunari’s brain.  As a general rule he doesn’t mind losing - everyone loses _sometimes -_ but getting destroyed by joyless basketball automatons was something else.  His body was shaking with despair and rage by halftime, and black spots had obscured his vision.  Yet he didn’t get why he felt so close to giving up until he watched Midorima Shintarou’s fourteenth consecutive three-pointer fly through the dead center of the hoop, and the shooter himself look as if he couldn’t care less.  He realized then that he wasn’t upset because they were losing -  it was because they were losing to players who didn’t even care. 

             Kazunari went home that day completely undone.  He did not cry as many of his other teammates did, but his body thrummed with a need that took him days to understand.  Yet when understanding settled in, it all amounted to this: more than he had wanted anything else in his entire life, he wanted to make Midorima Shintarou lose.  He chose their shooting guard for several obvious reasons, and one reason that while he would not explicitly state it, was the one that kept him awake at night.  The first two were fairly straightforward.  Kazunari was not a boy who hated easily (or at all, to be totally honest) and therefore it was impossible to wish defeat upon an entire team.  Therefore, he had selected the member who had scored the most points against him.  That he was also the person who had enabled Kazunari’s epiphany was the next reason.  It brought it all full circle in his mind. 

             Yet the true reason he fixated on Midorima was because he was easily the most attractive man Kazunari had ever met.  He had come to terms with his bisexuality several months ago, when he had broken up with his girlfriend because of it. Yet never before had he met someone as physically perfect as Midorima.  And, because there was absolutely no way he would ever make an impact in the shooting guard’s life - especially when his skills were so far beneath his and there was no way a player with that kind of talent _wouldn’t_ go to Rakuzan, where Kazunari couldn’t get in even if he was ten times better than he currently was - he would hate him instead, working his hardest to make him taste defeat and _notice_ him, even if it was just for one, fleeting moment. 

             Kazunari had assumed he’d have a year or two to work up to that moment of reckoning, but all his plans were dashed on the first day of Shuutoku’s tryouts.  There stood Midorima, literally a head above everyone else, and Kazunari’s heart plummeted down to his shoes.  The whole first day passed in a blur, and if it had been anything other than agility and endurance tests, he might have endangered his chances at making the team.  Yet as he lay in bed that night, aching and sore all over, he came to a realization.  Here was his chance to make Midorima notice him.  This wasn’t the end of his resolve, this was hope he had not even dared to dream of.  If Kazunari could make Midorima acknowledge him as a teammate, he could let go of his dark dreams of revenge ( _which were hard enough to hold onto in the first place, and all his daydreams as of late began spiraling into romantic fantasies that were partly inspired by his mother’s Korean dramas_ ) and focus on his own personal growth alongside his determination to impress Midorima. 

              Yet even as his focus shifted, his fixation did not lessen.  Midorima was just as handsome the next day at tryouts, and automaton or not, his hard-work was equally as attractive to Kazunari.  Even Midorima’s obvious eccentricities ( _selfishness_ , other players called it, or _his goddamn craziness)_ couldn’t turn Kazunari off.  He just _liked_ the guy.  His standoffishness was a golden challenge, and Kazunari was a man who simply did not know how to back down.  Likewise, his lucky items were inexplicable, amusing, and added an element of personality to the Teikou miracle that otherwise would have left him somewhat two-dimensional.  And his demands - which didn’t begin until after tryouts, mind you - were at the beginning simple and useful, like skipping the last hour of ball-handling drills to work on his shot.  Kazunari couldn’t blame him for using them as such, especially when the payoff was that amazing, and they won their first game by almost 60 points. 

               Other members of the team did not cut him such slack, however, and by the end of tryouts Kazunari was the only first-year that still spoke to Midorima-san every day.  Things like: _Hey_ , or _Good practice,_ or _Dang, Midorima.  If you keep baiting Miyaji-senpai like that, I’m pretty sure he’s going to throttle you._ Simple things that he would say to anyone, and nothing too appreciative or dismissive.  Midorima’s replies ranged from a curt nod to a polite thank you, and with increasing regularity, a confused look.  Yet it was still progress, Kazunari assured himself.  And at least the man hadn’t thrown the ball at his face.

               Their basic interactions weren’t the only things that were progressing.  Kazunari’s crush on the ex-miracle was also proceeding nicely, although he wasn’t so sure ‘nicely’ was how he felt about it. ‘Doomed’ was far more accurate.  Three weeks in, and Midorima-san’s oddities had come out in full-force.  The rest of the team, while relying on his amazing talent, made no secret of their disdain for his person.  Kazunari, who apparently had the patience of a minor deity (according to the upperclassmen) was the only one who could put up with him.  Little did the team know that far from it being a chore to attend to Midorima, it was a heady pleasure, especially when, on a day when he was feeling especially adventurous, he glanced over at his partner for the passing drills and brazenly dubbed him Shin-chan.

               The sheer mortification was an expression Kazunari would never forget, nor how the ball had dropped from his partner's nerveless fingers.   The entirety of the team turned and watched with wide eyes, and even Nakatani-sensei’s eyebrows rose.  Yet before Shuutoku’s ace could do anything other than sputter, Kazunari darted forward, grabbed the ball and spun it expertly on his finger.  _Gotta’ keep up, Shiiiin-chan,_ he had informed him with a grin covering half his face.  _Can’t let me beat you at passing!_ It was a gauntlet thrown somewhere between flirtation, challenge, and poking a monster right in the face, yet there was no way he’d stop calling him that silly nickname when it made his teammate blush and sputter eight times out ten.

               Kazunari knows this isn't a good game to be playing, especially when the winning odds are so remote. Yet he goes along with the whole rickshaw thing, even though it’s obvious he’s never going to win a game of jan-ken-pon in his entire life.  Worse yet, he’s finally made Shin-chan notice him...but only as a servant.  Having to cycle him around town is a painful tip off that he’s losing and that there is a very large chance he'll never be anything other than a commodity to be used and discarded.  It is as he sits at a red light, calf muscles aching and trembling from exertion that he comes to an even worse realization, however.  _I’m cycling around on a Saturday afternoon just to cart this bastard around.  That’s it.  I’m done.  Our rapport isn’t worth this, basketball isn’t worth this, even love isn’t worth this._

Yet he doesn’t go home, nor does he get off the rickshaw and walk off, leaving Shin-chan to fend for himself.  Instead, he simply groans and pedals harder when the light turns green.  This is because his realization is partially a lie, and with every yard he travels, straining to shift both the rickshaw’s and Shin-chan’s weight he is aware of the truth.  Love _is_ worth it, and neither is he finished with this situation.  This fixation has been the driving force in his life for the last year, and as long as he’s in love with a man who doesn’t give two figs about him, this is his life. 

...

                Kazunari is not a man who gives up, but neither is he a natural masochist.  After a particularly harsh week where Shin-chin ignores him ( _seven whole days of Shin-channing with no response. You can't imagine how bad it was)_ Kazunari makes a deal with himself.  If they win their next practice match - against Seirin - he’ll give up on Shin-chan.  No matter how cute Shin-chan can unintentionally be with his inability to read even basic social interactions, nor how mind-numbingly handsome he is, nor how his talent on the court makes Kazunari weak in the knees, it’s not healthy for him to obsess over someone like this.  Especially someone as emotionally stunted as his shooting guard, and who treats him like a goddamn servant!

            Yet against all odds, Seirin wins.  Midorima’s old teammate ( _one that he clearly doesn’t like but can’t help but respect, and Kazunari wants that respect so badly he can barely keep his composure around this Kuroko_ ) and his American ( _boyfriend?  Heterosexual life partner?  God knows but they are certainly_ something) defeat them, and it’s the first time Kazunari has seen Midorima cry.  It’s out in the rain, no less, and the image is burned onto Kazunari’s heart so that every time he closes his eyes he sees him, standing tall and broken, lost alongside his philosophy.  _Just pass me the ball_ , he had ordered the team, and Kazunari had taken that to heart.  Yet now his shot had been defeated, his method of play rendered imperfect, and a miracle was made a man.  Kazunari watched his entire way of life crumble to his ankles that afternoon, and realized that any further attempts at giving up on him was futile.  He had fallen in love with this man like a runaway train, and now that he had seen him lose he was never getting over him, no matter how badly things ended when his train crashed. 

...

           

             Life went on, andone morning, Kazunari finds his little sister watching TV as he prepared his breakfast.  She chirps on about someone named Oha Asa, and it takes his sleep-fogged brain several minutes to make the connection.  When he does, he nearly drops his spoon.  Oha Asa is Shin-chan’s goddess, the one who demands lucky items from her followers, and feeds into their latent obsessive compulsive disorders (or so Kazunari suspects).  Intrigued, he listens in to discover his sister’s lucky item (a stuffed owl toy) and his own (a toothbrush).  He doesn’t pay attention to the rankings, as by then his brain has shifted into a higher gear, and he begins to think about how he might use this information to make Shin-chan notice him. 

              It was easier than he’d thought.  By now, Shin-chan allows him to handle his items ( _especially the heavy ones, and Kazunari was going to put his foot down someday, he really was)_ and so barely looked over when Kazunari asked him a few basic questions about it.  Then, with his best upward glance ( _the one that was just a hint flirtatious, nothing too obvious)_ he’d asked about his own.  That caused the ace to turn and look him full in the face, and he was unable to hide his shock and subsequent embarrassment.  Yet in the next moment he had swallowed his discomfiture, and had stiffly announced all that Kazunari had learned this morning about his zodiac sign.  He then proceeded to awkwardly admit that his alignment was a fortunate one, as Scorpios and Cancers were highly compatible.  _Perhaps the most compatible of all the zodiac signs, if I may say so myself.  Your parents are fortunate that they timed out their children so expertly.  It makes for a harmonious household, I would expect._

            All this had been capped off with a shy, microscopic smile that had disappeared so quickly that only Kazunari (and perhaps Miyaji-senpai, who called for a pineapple in a threatening tone of voice) caught it.  It was enough to make his heart soar, however.  Shin-chan could say what he liked about Kazunari’s little sister, but the same logic held true for him.  Now that the great man himself admitted that they were compatible (nonsense about stars and zodiac signs notwithstanding) perhaps he would begin to view him as a friend?

            Kazunari floated through classes until lunchtime, and his elation made him a little sillier than usual. ( _Shin-chan, Shin-chan!  Now, I’ve given it a lot of thought, and do you know what I’ve decided?  There should be a legion of handsome men that run around solving problems, flirting haphazardly, and ultimately saving the day.  We could call it...Hot Squad.  Or maybe...Bootylicious Boys. Oh!  What about the Generation of Miracle Men? What do you think?_

_I think you are delusional.  Turn around and pay attention to the lecture._

_Now, Shin-chan, that is no way to talk to the other founding member of the League of Sextacular Gentlemen...)_

            This caused him to be later than usual in meeting his old friends for lunch, leading him to overhear precisely what their classmates thought of Shin-chan.  The shuttered expression on Shin-chan’s handsome face caused something to misfire in his brain, and although he has no clear recollection of what he angrily told his classmates, his friends informed him the next day that he made two girls cry and the loudest bully turn pale with fear.  All he remembered was the fire burning through his veins, and the need to reassure Shin-chan that he was _nothing_ like what their classmates thought.

            He dragged Shin-chan up to the roof, where for once the man followed without protestation, and proceeded to rant, rage, and ask the occasional rhetorical question for nearly ten minutes.  He could have gone on forever (or at least long enough to make his feelings obvious) but when he took a breath Shin-chan had looked up at him with an uncharacteristically shy expression and asked in a tiny, breathless voice why he cared about any of this.  Kazunari’s breath caught in his throat.  Shin-chan sat against the wall with his broad shoulders hunched over; his green eyes brimming with insecurity, and Kazunari had to physically bite his tongue to keep from admitting it was because he loved him.  That became slightly easier when he realized that Shin-chan’s inability to deal with all this - even the part of it where Kazunari became his knight in shining armor - was likely because no one had ever stood up for him before.  If he followed that piece of logic, he could infer that Shin-chan had never had a friend in his life - or at least one who cared enough to fight for him.

           ( _Stop glaring at me, Akashi.  I didn’t know any better at the time!  And neither did he, so settle down and drink your tea.)_    

            In response to Shin-chan’s timid question he had shaken his head, mumbling something non-committal.  If the ex-miracle had been friendless for 16 years, perhaps it was no wonder he had the social maturity of a yardstick.  It also made sense that he attempted to categorize Kazunari as a servant rather than as a friend, as he’d had no prior experience with someone actually liking him.  Taken one step further, Kazunari could be accurately considered (whether Shin-chan admitted it or not) as his first and only friend.

            This changed things _,_ and Kazunari could think of nothing else for the rest of the day. In a single stroke, the playing field had been altered dramatically.  Before, he had assumed he was dealing with an eccentric, selfish man who chose to be such.  Now, he realized those oddities reached down deeper than he’d imagined, and were likely neuroses cultivated through years of loneliness and being bullied.  Although he had wormed his way into Shin-chan’s life (and his ace’s behavior on the roof proved that Kazunari held more power over him than he’d realistically ever expected) he would have to tread carefully throughout the infamous friend zone before ever getting a chance at being anything more. 

            Yet as he said before, he was not a man who gives up easily ( _or at all, as his affection for the most impossible man he knows proves, and really there had better be some sort of prize for this at the end of the day)_ and so he took it one step at a time.  He began eating lunch with him every day, and was heartened when Shin-chan didn't make too much of a fuss. An even better sign was when he made no demurral to Kazunari’s joining his evening practices, and goes so far as to offer up ( _terse, impatient, yet detailed and thoughtful_ ) pointers on how to improve Kazunari’s own shot.  This accompanied all the hours they spent studying and watching their competitor’s games, and soon enough these instance were augmented by lucky item shopping trips, and other adventures that Shin-chan grumpily called _‘wastes of time’_ but went along with anyway.

_(There are times when he feels a little guilty at entertaining ulterior motives towards his friend, yet rather than think of himself as an opportunist, he chooses to consider himself a charitable man.  And even if the album in his phone of Shin-chan in western clothes was deemed karmic payment, he’d still never, ever delete them._

_..._

As weeks passed into months, his hard work paid off.  Shin-chan opened up like a flower, and Takao had to clear a small space in his room reserved for the lucky items his partner inevitably _(haltingly, condescendingly, yet utterly adorably_ ) gave him when Scorpios’ luck was at their worst. At this point they were practically inseparable, in both the classroom, the court, and their homes. 

            Yet then came the day Kazunari had never thought would come, and he found himself explaining to Shin-chan about his ex-girlfriend, who had gone onto Japan’s leading math and sciences high school.  ( _That stupid fucking test.  The one time Shin-chan actually wants to see his grade, and all Kazunari wants is to simply let his ex-girlfriend-enforced mastery of the subject pass by, like water under a bridge.  Lying to Shin-chan was impossible, however, so he done his best to downplay their relationship, although not to the extent of doing her a disservice. She was a nice girl, after all, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t Midorima Shintarou.)_ Shin-chan clearly didn’t know what to think, and Kazunari found himself at a standstill, unable to reassure his friend that he was his only important person now ( _if that would even solve things.  Knowing Shin-chan, there was a chance he was only upset about a slight imperfection in his taping and the two point difference on their test.)_ He was afraid to say the wrong thing and watch his friend close himself off entirely, and did the only thing he knew to do: fall back onto his cheerful persona while suppressing his rising panic. 

            That night his stress got the best of him, however, and he found himself drafting frustrated text messages to Shin-chan that had he sent them, might have ended everything.  So before he could do something he couldn’t come back from, he took a long, hot shower. Yet even that didn’t ease his tension as all he could do was think about Shin-chan.  Fantasizing about him was nothing new, nor was finding release as he does so, but that night he was _angry,_ and his desires took an unexpected turn.  ( _In his fantasy they are_ both _angry, and take it out on each other in the way he’s been dreaming of.  Unlike all the other dreams, however, Kazunari spends no time teaching Shin-chan how to kiss, how to touch, how to love.  This time, Shin-chan boldly takes what he wants with no opportunity for Kazunari to tell him no.  He is kissed, licked, and bitten with no warning, and Shin-chan makes full use of his superior size and strength by shoving him back against the shower wall and using his vaunted fingers to stretch him out below.  By the time dream Shin-chan replaces his fingers with his cock, Kazunari is nearly sobbing with lust, and in a direct correlation to his fantasy, his real fingers work furiously away inside of him as he comes.)_

It was only after he surfaced from the piercing pleasure of his ejaculation that Kazunari realized the enormity of his fantasy.  He’d never dreamed of being the bottom in that situation and had no idea he’d feel any pleasure from it.  He’d also never imagined Shin-chan to be that forceful, as he knew that deep down the man was a giant tsundere, and his prickly exterior hid a gentle soul.  _(But oh lord, he liked the idea of Shin-chan dominating him, fucking him so hard he could barely draw breath.  Even knowing that there was a difference between theory and practice, the mental image of Shin-chan bending him over and tupping him fiercely caused his cock to twitch in excitement.  Tomorrow, his mother would complain about their hot water bill.  For now, Kazunari was going to do it again.)_

Clearly, Kazunari was in trouble.  As he leaned back against the shower wall, panting after his second orgasm, he knew he had been so from the first.  Meeting Midorima Shintarou had turned his whole life upside down, and had ruined him for everything else.  Yet was that really so bad?  Look at the pleasure he had just experienced.  He would never have discovered it if not for Shin-chan.  Likewise, would he have worked so hard to become the best point guard he could be if he hadn’t someone to impress?  No, meeting his partner was ordained ( _by the stars, Shin-chan would no doubt inform him)_ and even when it crashed and burned at his feet (for even now, he couldn’t imagine loving this man would ever end well) he wouldn’t regret a day of it.

…

 

            Kazunari had always been a touchy guy.  He used this to his advantage when dealing with his secret crush on his best friend, and as he regulated himself during their school hours, thought he could get away with it scot free.  He was proven wrong when, out at a speed dating session with an old friend, he was asked whether he was actually dating Midorima-san and if not, why he persisted in jumping on his back and demanding piggy back rides between classes. ( _Kazunari had forgotten about that.  It was all in retaliation for pulling the rickshaw around, and it wasn’t like Shin-chan would bash him against the wall or anything, as he was a tsundere, and- look, he was only human, ok?)_  As he was fairly intoxicated and it was his friend who was doing the asking Kazunari was unable to mask his response.  His friend dropped his drink in surprise, and it took Kazunari nearly a half an hour to calm him down; convince him that his affection was one-sided; assure him that he’d never had a crush on _him,_ and then swear him to secrecy.  After all that was accomplished, his friend had become a surprisingly good sport about it. _Well, if anyone could possibly win that guy over, it’s you, Kazu-kun.  Seriously, Mom always said you could charm the devil himself...Midorima-san couldn’t be_ that _difficult.  Work hard, man!  I’ll root for you!_

The success had gone straight to his head, and through that, his four drinks, and the late hour he somehow convinced himself that tonight was the perfect night to confess.  And perhaps it would have been if one of the girls at the session hadn’t thrown up on his jacket as he was saying his goodbyes.  His disappointment must have shown on his face, as her friend offered up her perfume in order to mask the smell.  Unwilling to lose his momentum, Kazunari had agreed and they had cheerfully doused his coat in cheap perfume before he made his merry way to the Midorima house. 

            He called on the way over, and by the time he arrived the shooting guard was sitting on his steps.  Kazunari saw this as a sign from God, and threw himself into his arms, squeezing tightly and singing a little bit of the song he had composed on the way over.  His lowered inhibitions and the fact that his friend had gotten up for him at all made his hips twitch forward automatically, yet before Kazunari could really enjoy the firmness of his friend’s body against his partially formed erection, Shin-chan had shoved him away.  Kazunari’s heart had dropped, knowing he had gone too far this time, and that his partner would be utterly disgusted.  Yet even while intoxicated his hawkeyes could not be fooled, and the look on his friend’s face had not been disgust, but sorrow.

            Kazunari had reached for his friend ( _and ok, maybe poked him in the face harder than he’d meant to, but he was drunk, and it couldn’t be helped)_ but Shin-chan had raced down the driveway back to his home, leaving Kazunari standing like a statue on his front lawn.  For a long moment, all he could do was stand there and breathe as anything else would be far too painful.  Yet understanding came crashing in as he began his walk home: Shin-chan knew.  He knew that Kazunari wanted him, and had made his feelings on that perfectly clear. 

He cried as he walked home, too drunk to care about his pride.  He had wanted him for so long, and to have all hope ripped away in one fell swoop was jarring, not to mention heartbreaking.  And what the hell was he going to do about it?  What the hell could he possibly say to him the next day?  How was this going to affect the team?  And how was he ever going to recover from this?

Distantly, he wondered about Shin-chan’s expression, and how it was closer to heartbreak than revulsion.  Even more distantly, he wondered if this was how his girlfriend felt when he had blasted her dreams.

…

            After a night of searching his soul, Kazunari learned two things: one, that Shin-chan meant more to him than basketball did.  Two: that being the case, he still couldn’t put his own desires over those of the team.  So he had prepared his heart for the end and turned up at Shin-chan’s house the next morning, hoping that he would get a chance to persuade Shin-chan not to give up on their basketball partnership. Yet his friend had surprised him once again.  Shin-chan had come to a determination of his own, and after an interminably long ride (to Kazunari’s frazzled mind) he had deferred the entire conversation with one of his signature selfish demands.  When even his hawkeyes couldn’t read anything but sincerity on his face, Kazunari acquiesced, utterly confused.  Hadn’t their interaction last night spelled the end?  Could he have misread things in his drunken haze? 

            Just as his heart was beginning to hope he had simply been wrong, he ran into another old friend on his way back from the vending machines.  _Hey, Kazunari - woah, man.  Why are you wearing women’s perfume? Don't tell me it's that Midorima guy's lucky item or something..._

The proverbial light bulb went off above his head.   Although he had showered ( _and cried a little more when he was in there, but no one knew, so it really didn’t count)_ his coat still smelled overpoweringly of woman. Had _that_ been what Shin-chan reacted to?  Had _that_ been what caused him to look so desolate last night?  His heart pounding, Kazunari ran straight back to his best friend, can of shiruko clutched in his hand.  Hope and fear buoyed him until he was prepared to launch himself straight into Shin-chan’s arms (whether his partner was willing or no) and had Nakatani-sensei not stepped out of his office at precisely that moment and called out to him, he would have done so. 

            His coach said the only thing that could have pierced through Kazunari’s manic state. _If you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you Kazunari.  It’s about the captain position for next year._

_Coach, I'm a little busy at the moment-_

_I needed to catch you without Midorima, son.  Step into my classroom.  It’ll just be a moment..._

            The next ten minutes (wherein it was decided that Midorima would be captain, but only if Kazunari agreed to taking the vice-captain position in order to negate the worst of his irregularities) served to calm him down, but also to drive him completely up the wall.  The coach must have thought he was on drugs or something, with the way he kept fidgeting and glancing at the door.  It didn't help matters when Shin-chan passed by the classroom, clearly looking for him _(or his shiruko, but Kazunari would like to believe that he was more important.)_

Their reconciliation was delayed even further when Nakatani-sensei realized Shuutoku's future captain was loitering outside the door.  Now that he had Kazunari's somewhat distracted promise that he would keep the ace in line for the next two years, their coach lost no time in congratulating him.  Shin-chan's surprise and delight was obvious (at least for Kazunari) and he knew that this wasn't the moment to act his revelation.  So he handed his friend the drink, smiled broadly at the sight of Shin-chan's eyes (gone wide behind their glasses), and congratulated him. 

            There would be other times to straighten their misunderstanding out, Kazunari assured himself.  Becoming captain was a major achievement, and nothing should complicate Shin-chan's happiness. Besides, the first flush of confidence was fading, and Kazunari realized he could be wrong - perhaps Shin-chan had merely gave them the chance to forget, rather than forgive, and to move on without wrecking their basketball partnership.  So he bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to tell his friend what really happened, and yet he could never quite muster up the courage to go through with it.  Something always felt wrong, and on the few occasions it nearly happened, they were interrupted.

            There are nights when he's on the brink of calling him, ready to explain everything.  Yet he knows that it would be far too easy to confess his feelings as well, and so he merely turns his phone off instead.  Sometimes, he takes a long, hot shower.  Other nights, he merely lays awake fighting with himself until his exhaustion wins out. Either way he perpetuated the status quo for long months until Himuro sparked the disastrous chain reaction of men and rampaging hormones, and Shin-chan got him personally involved.  That lead, of course, to tonight where Shin-chan finally admitted to being jealous at the thought of Kazunari's imaginary female conquests, and he had _still_ managed to mess it up. 

            Kazunari then looked across the table at his best friend's ex-best friend ( _or whatever it was that they were, exactly_ ) and smiled wanly.  _So.  What do you think-_

_..._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_"_ So.  What do you think?"

            Akashi had removed a fan from his bag a while back, with which he had fanned himself wildly.  Now it was going at a slightly slower clip.  "Oh my.  Parts of that were positively _indecent._ Shintarou is going to have his hands full with you."

            Takao would have taken offense had not Akashi looked utterly delighted while saying so. "So you don't care that I am sexually inclined towards men? Nor that Kuroko and Kagami are as well?"

            The rapidity of the fan trailed off as Akashi pouted.  "I, homophobic? _Hardly._ Nearly everyone I know is gay, and I have learned to take my guilty pleasures where I can get them.  Besides, it offers me rehabilitation for my control issues.  I could have stepped in long before, Kazunari.  But I did not, and am now reaping the benefits.  After all, I would not have heard your story had I controlled all this from its inception.  And I enjoyed it _very_ much."

            Takao couldn’t remember Shin-chan ever telling him that Akashi was a closet pervert, nor that he took such delight in men loving other men.  “Does that mean that _you_ are gay?”

            “No, no.  Unfortunately.  Believe me, Reo has been attempting to convert me for years, and if I could like it, I would.  Still.  I’ve built up quite an appreciation of _other_ men getting it on.  My therapist assures me it is a coping mechanism.”

             Partially to spare himself from Akashi’s launching into a story of his own, Takao broke in with, “So you’re stepping in, then?”

             Akashi cleared his throat, and folded his fan with a sharp flick of his wrist.  He placed it gently on the table, rooted in his bag for a manila folder, and then laid it on the table next to the fan.  “Indeed.  It was excellent work so far, my new friend, and I think it best to add on to what you’ve already accomplished.”

             “Wait, but I didn’t tell you about S.P.E.P-”

              Akashi waved him off.  “Doesn’t matter.  I know everything.  And believe me, I will be having words with Taiga after Tetsuya is won.  Now, I feel as if the main obstacle to your and Shintarou’s future happiness are his parents.  Luckily for you, I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and have come up with a plan that will ensure they don’t make too great a fuss.”

               Takao’s eyes widened as Akashi flipped through a large array of graphs, charts, and in-depth reports.  “You have a plan...to make Shin-chan’s parents ok with the potentiality of their son being gay?”

              Akashi opened his mouth as if to explain, but hesitated.  Something had clearly occurred to him, but at this hour in the morning Takao had no idea what it could be.  Yet then Akashi smiled, folded his hands across the papers, and assured Takao in a warmer voice than he’d thought possible.  "Leave it all to me, my new friend.  Leave it all to me..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon where Akashi, once defeated, will magically turn into the Only Sane Man with legendary, somewhat British sass. Please don’t take this away from me. I’ve tried to write him evil and it’s just no good. I just derive such joy from making him absolutely inexplicable. 
> 
> ...  
> The next chapter will be incredibly NSFW. Yes, smut ahoy. For both pairings. You are warned.


	7. The Third Incident - True Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I love you” is a phrase with deep and varied cultural contexts in Japan, and was apparently not something said very often or at least quite so bluntly. During the Meiji era, Natsume Soseki -one of the most famous Japanese authors - had a hard time translating this phrase from English to Japanese. He settled on (a variant of) “The moon is beautiful/blue tonight.”  
> Kagami struggles with this concept, as you will see.

            Akashi's plan was sheer insanity, and for that reason Kazunari thought that it might just work.  That, or the both of them would be forever barred from the Midorima house, in which case the overall damage couldn't be worse than Midorima not forgiving him.  Worse came to worst, his partner would be so horrified at the thought of Akashi's proposition (and bonding last night notwithstanding, Kazunari would be appropriately horrified as well) that at least he might forget all about Kazunari's transgressions until he'd had a chance to convince him.  The act of convincing his partner to forgive him would be - if he had anything to say about it - heartfelt, thorough, and time-consuming, and if it progressed to the point where he'd be able to make use of the surprise in his pocket, fulfilling as well.

            ( _Seriously, where was Seirin's bird man when he had a good pun? Not where he needed to be, clearly.)_

Yet the entire plan hinged on his getting Shin-chan out of his house, and so far, that seemed to be moving slowly.  The Midorimas had seemed oddly subdued when they allowed Akashi and he into the house, and were adamant that Shintarou was not feeling well, and would definitely not be able to receive visitors.  They seemed on the verge of asking the point guards to leave when Akashi played his trump card by pulling a small, black jewelry box out of his pocket, and bending down before the youngest Midorima, a tiny girl of no more than 3 years old.  Midorima Miki regarded him with calm, grass-green eyes, precisely as her older brother would.  Akashi seemed to approve, as he opened the black box, displaying a 10 carat diamond ring.  "I realize this is a bit sudden, but our future happiness is worth all manner of recklessness.  My dear Miki-chan, will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?"

            In the stillness before all hell broke loose, Miki looked down at the ring, and then over at Kazunari, who never failed to play with her whenever he came over, even when she had him playact as Momma to her older brother's Papa. At his minute nod, Miki smiled happily, leaned in, and kissed Akashi on the cheek, gurgling her assent.

            Chaos descended.  Mrs. Midorima began squawking in the way of mothers who suddenly found their 3-year-old engaged, where her husband turned pale and swayed, looking as if he would hit the floor any minute.  Akashi knelt before them all like a rock jutting out of a tempestuous ocean, blinking calmly in the face of their disbelief, as if proposing marriage to toddlers was an everyday occurrence. 

            This was Kazunari's cue, but Mr. Midorima had staggered in front of the stairway, blocking the way to his friend.  Yet the disruption wouldn't last forever, and Kazunari had just made up his mind to give up the stealth portion of their mission and simply drag Midorima away by force when his other sister, 14 year old Saori, came out of nowhere and briskly herded her father into the living room.  As she passed Kazunari she turned and glanced up the stairs, winking at the last moment.  The notion of the stoic middle Midorima winking nearly made Kazunari burst out laughing, but he was currently far too nervous.  Thankful for Saori's unexpected assistance, he tore up the stairs as she deposited her father onto the floor next to Akashi.

            "What an auspicious day! It is not every day a woman receives a proposal of marriage! And from such an eligible suitor.  Mother, you must be so proud.  Miki, you are a little minx."

            He could practically see Saori's deadpan expression, so at odds with her words. Yet Shin-chan's door opened directly in front of him, poking his head out with a confused expression, likely drawn by the commotion downstairs.  His eyes widened when they landed on Kazunari. "Takao, what are you- oh god.  Did they summon you?"

            Well he’d certainly never been greeted like that, before.  Filing away that odd question for later, Kazunari pulled his friend out into the hallway, tugging him behind him.  "Questions later, Shin-chan! I've come to kidnap you, and we don't have much time!"

            Miraculously, Midorima followed his orders without contesting them, and the only one who saw them escape the house was Saori, who had glanced over at just the right moment.  To ensure her mother didn't also see them, she swung her halfway around the room, to where she had placed Akashi and Miki on adjoining chairs.  "Now, Mother.  They await your blessing."  She made just enough noise to cover the sound of the door closing behind them, yet even then Kazunari did not relax.  He ran to his house, pulling Midorima in his wake.  Oddly enough, the shooting guard was still silent, not even asking what his sister had been referring to, let alone why they were running in the first place.  It was only when they had arrived at his home and he had locked the door behind him that Kazunari relaxed, leaning back against the door and sighing heavily. 

            Midorima strode ahead of him and studiously examined the remains of a pineapple rind, only a few feet from the still overturned punch bowl. He kept his back to Kazunari, yet he could still see that his friend looked perfectly fine.  Yet he should probably inquire before he confessed his love, just to make sure he wasn't going to vomit halfway through it.  "Sorry, Shin-chan.  I know you're not feeling well, but we have to talk."

            That prompted a reaction.  Midorima glanced over his shoulder with a regretful expression.  "Not feeling well? I suppose that is a kind way of putting it.  Although I doubt it will hold up for the amount of time they will require it to."

            Kazunari frowned.  What on earth was he talking about?  Was this some odd way of expressing his anger from last night?  Or was this connected to some new transgression that Kazunari didn’t know about yet? He had suspected Shin-chan was using his 'illness' to avoid him, but if so, he was doing a remarkably poor job.  Otherwise he should have just shored up in his room.  And who were 'they'?  All pertinent questions, but ones Kazunari had no time for.  Now that he had this precious time alone with his love -and it didn't look like Shin-chan was _too_ angry with him about last night- he couldn't squander it. 

            He shook his head and began. “Shin-chan, I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about, but there’s something I need to do.  Please don’t be mad.  Just - just hold still, for a second.”  It was time.  He had given this a lot of thought - most nights for the past 8 months, actually - and every scenario began exactly the same way.  So before Midorima could protest or question him, he sucked in a deep breath, strode forward, and hooking his hands behind Midorima's neck, pulled him down and kissed him. 

            For one blissful moment, Kazunari's mind cleared of every earthly concern that was not directly connected to Shin-chan's lips. They were exactly as soft as he'd imagined, so at odds with the stern line he usually flattened them out into.  Then Shin-chan made a little noise, and Kazunari resigned himself to be pushed away, even though all his calculations added up to Shin-chan's being even just the slightest bit interested in him. Yet nothing was ever certain, and so Kazunari pressed his lips a little more firmly against his friend's, savoring this stolen moment.

           Yet the moment stretched on, and just as Kazunari began to think he'd turned Midorima to stone, strong arms settled around him, pulling him closer with jerking, hesitant tugs.  The surprise of Midorima hugging him made him part his lips, and that caused his partner to hum at the back of his throat.  Kazunari's brain then caught up with the situation, realizing that in fulfillment of his sweetest dreams, Midorima was kissing him _back._ Happiness washed over him like waves upon the shore, and his somatic memory took over.  He cupped Midorima’s face and kissed him gently, slowly moving his mouth over his partner's.  He kept the kiss chaste, as he could feel Midorima’s lips tremble against his own, and his taped fingers clench against his body as the kiss grew deeper.  Finally, Kazunari pulled back, coming down from tiptoe so he could take in his partner’s awestruck expression.  He had planned out a moving speech, where he outlined all the benefits of having him as a boyfriend.   Now, looking up into his Shin-chan's glazed eyes, he knew he didn't need a word of it. So he spoke from the heart, fingers smoothing over his cheeks so they could tangle into his hair.

            "You know, Shin-chan, I've been in love with you for a long time.  A _really_ long time.  And I know what's happening between us may be a little scary, but you've rubbed off of me, and so I've have done all I can do to prepare for it." Shin-chan exhaled raggedly, and Kazunari broke off from his speech to lean up and kiss him again.  "You don't know what you do to me, Shin-chan.  Forget moving heaven and earth, I'd change my entire life just to be with you - I practically have already.  I can't help it.  You're just so amazing, Shin-chan, and I don't just mean on the court.  I just...I just _like_ you and _want_ you, and want to be _with_ you...and I don't care what kind of crazy selfish requests you make, I am prepared to meet all of them.  And yeah, it’s hard to be gay even now, but I’m prepared to do all that I can to have a chance with you. Even if it means making an alliance with Akashi just to stand up to your parents.  Even if it means fighting every damn person who dares to judge you ever again.  Even if-"

            He was cut off by Midorima leaning down and kissing him.  The kiss was forceful and uncoordinated, and had a little too much nose, but it was his first initiated kiss, and as such nearly made Kazunari sag to the floor.  Yet before Kazunari could take the kiss and turn it into something that would leave them both breathless and gasping, Shin-chan pulled back.  His glasses sat askew on his nose, and it took him three tries to speak.  “Earlier this morning I told my parents I am a homosexual.  So I...I am prepared as well.”

            Kazunari’s heart began pounding painfully in his chest, and although he knew that this of all things should be making him smile, all he could do was stare up at his friend in shock.  “You...you what?  This morning?  How - wait, why?”

            Midorima didn’t let go of him, but fidgeted awkwardly.  A deep blush crept along his cheekbones, just under Kazunari’s fingertips.  “Wh-why do you think, you fool?  After last night, I... Well, I couldn’t en-enter into something like this without doing all I could do to ensure it’s su-success…”  He finally released his hold on Kazunari so that he could adjust his glasses and hide his expression.  Kazunari was having none of that, however, and before Midorima could stop him, he whipped off his glasses and yanked him in the direction of his bedroom.

            “Ta-Takao!”

            Kazunari shut the door behind them, and set down the glasses on the nightstand next to his bed.  Only then did he answer Midorima’s unvoiced question.  “I love you, Shin-chan.  I have no idea what went on in your mind last night, nor how I am lucky enough to have gotten this, but I love you so, so much, and if you don’t sit down on the bed right now, I will have to prove it to you standing up, and due to our height differences it may be a bit difficult.  So-”

            Midorima sat down abruptly on the bed, green eyes wide with nervousness and anticipation.  The expression made Kazunari’s heart swell, and he wasted no time in straddling his love, each knee to either side of his hips.  He kissed him gently before whispering, “Let me love you, Shin-chan...”

…

…

…

…

…

Shintarou was fairly sure this was the most terrifying moment of his life.  His palms were slick with sweat, his heart was thudding so quickly he expected a heart attack was imminent, and he had absolutely no idea how to handle such an interaction.  Yet he was equally sure this was (probably) the most wonderful moment of his life as well, so he allowed Takao to kiss him, insistent and sure, and let all thoughts of the woman who had taught him this evaporate.  As clueless as he was, he knew he was making Takao happy, and that was worth anything.  The frantic run home last night after Takao had admitted ( _well, perhaps not admitted per se, but it was close enough and his meaning could not be misconstrued)_ his feelings for him; the hours he had stayed up last night debating on his best course of action, even the excruciating, hour-long argument with his parents about his duty versus his sexual leanings...all of it was worth it just to have Takao here with him, saying things like-

“I love you, Shin-chan.  Please don’t be freaked out. I know I’m pushing this on you too fast but I just can’t help it you’re just too damn _wonderful.”_ Takao spoke between kisses, and Shintarou couldn’t tell what affected him more - the fire strafing his body from Takao’s lips, or the glow in his heart from his words.  The thought of someone liking him this much - let alone _loving_ him - was totally alien to him, and it was pushing him close to emotional overload. Yet he wanted to respond to Takao’s feelings, and to tell him...well, he wouldn’t be able to tell him anything at all, as he was awkward about this at the least arousing of times.  Yet perhaps he could show him?

The next time Takao leaned back to look at him lovingly ( _or so Shintarou assumed, as he was extremely near-sighted and really wanted his glasses right now)_ he tugged him back to him and kissed him firmly, hoping it would work a little better than his first kiss.  Unlike before, Takao’s mouth was not set in a prim line, as was Shintarou’s - so he shivered when Takao gently bit his lower lip before lathing it with his tongue.  He couldn’t help the groan that rumbled from his throat, and against his mouth he felt Takao smile. 

“Did you like that, Shin-chan?”  Takao’s voice was low and smooth, and it reminded Shintarou of his declarations that had first grabbed his notice.  He tilted his face towards Takao’s in response, and after another lingering kiss, Takao pulled back again.  “Do you like _me,_ Shin-chan?”

His tone had turned dark and suggestive, and made all the blood in Shintarou’s body rush south.  The sensation made him gasp for air and whisper his response, even as his ears burned in embarrassment.  “ _Yes.”_ He closed his eyes immediately, mortified. 

“Oh, Shin-chan…” Takao whispered, but the emotion in his voice was impossible to miss.  Neither could he miss the tongue that traced a wet line down his neck, causing him to bite his lip and his cock to turn to steel in his pants.  Apparently, Takao didn’t mind the impropriety of continuing when Shintarou was disgracing himself in such a manner, as he rocked his hips against him, and lightly bit down on Shintarou’s collarbone. 

“ _Takao…!”_ It was half groan, half plea, yet none of it was admonishment.  His hands wound around Takao’s waist of their own accord, and shaped themselves nervously to the planes of his body.  This was how his shoulders felt, and this his lower back, and _this…_   Shintarou’s hands trailed down his chest, mesmerized by the feel of hard muscle underneath his thin cotton shirt.  And if he were daring enough to let his hands dip lower, to investigate the source of his tented jeans and that pressed so firmly against his own stomach?

The thought of touching him made his hard-on twitch, and Shintarou pulled back, gasping.  Yet Takao gave him no time to adjust.  His mouth was on his again, kissing him as hungrily as Shintarou could take.  Control was slipping away, yet for once it did not worry him.  Takao had assured him that he had done everything he could to prepare for this, after all.  And as Shintarou had no earthly idea of how to implement his basic knowledge of what was inevitably to follow, he was content _(more than content, he was practically shaking with excitement and desire and one hundred other emotions he had very little idea of how to express)_ to follow Takao’s lead.

Takao’s lead encompassed slowly undoing his pants, and when Shintarou’s hands were trembling too hard to follow example, unzipping his as well. Without breaking the kiss Takao leaned up so that he could shuck his pants down to his knees, and after a minute or two of nudging him (and finally, a drawn out _Shin-chan_ muttered against his lips) Shintarou followed suit.  When Takao settled back down into his lap Shintarou’s arousal won out over his sense of propriety, and he glanced down to catch the blurry outline of their erections nestled together, and the sight - indistinct as it was - made him rock his hips instinctively. 

“Mmm, Shin-chan.  You’re being so naughty…”

“Shut up, Takao.”  Lust and embarrassment had finally gotten the better of him, and so he simply hid his face in Takao’s neck and flexed his hips forward again.  He had decided to put his trust in Takao, and as long as they were doing all that they could do, he would not fear this next step...no matter how much it might hurt, nor how awkward it would be, nor how unflattering a man his stature would be in the subordinate role…

“Well, if Shin-chan is ok with being naughty…” Takao daringly reached down to adjust their briefs so that the weeping crowns of their cocks were free to rub together.  Shintarou gasped, bolts of pleasure shooting down his spine.  He was unaware that he had moaned against Takao’s neck until Takao hummed in response, his fingers sliding over both of them at once, gripping just tightly enough to cause Shintarou’s breath to catch in his throat. 

“I was going to wait and talk about it with you first, but you’re just too sexy, Shin-chan.  I don’t think I can wait anymore.  And we’ll talk about roles and switching and all that later...but for now I _need_ you.  Is that ok?”

Shintarou jerkily nodded his assent, and his mind kickstarted again in panic.  Yes, the next few minutes were undoubtedly going to be uncomfortable and humiliating and absolutely terrifying, but Takao would do everything in his power not to hurt him, and perhaps even make it (eventually) enjoyable.  Yet the fear that Takao would find him grossly unattractive as soon as he was inside of him ran rampant through his mind, and he stiffened as soon as Takao eased off of him to rummage in his chest of drawers for - ah.  A bottle of lubricant.  Then, he leaned down to extract a condom wrapper from the back pocket of his discarded jeans.  Noble adherence to safe sex aside, Shintarou’s mind zoned in on the lubricant, now being poured thickly onto Takao’s right hand, and no doubt to be used to smooth his entry and to keep Shintarou’s...orifice from being damaged, and-

Takao straddled him once again, kissing him deeply, as if to chase away Shintarou’s obvious nervousness.  The kiss was engrossing, and it was why it took him a few minutes to realize that Takao was only holding onto him with one hand while the other...Shintarou ran his fingers down Takao’s other arm, following its jerking movements back until its purpose was clear, even to him with his lack of experience.  Takao was preparing himself, working his fingers inside of himself (at what must be an awkward angle) in order to experience less discomfort when having sex with him. Sex where _Takao_ would be the one penetrated, rather than Shintarou.

 Shintarou let out a low groan, overcome both at the thought of being inside his love, and by Takao’s dedication.  Had this been a part of what he meant by doing all he could do to be with him? Humbled, Shintarou opened his lips to leave a lovebite on Takao’s neck, unable to communicate his love in any other way.  The sensation made Takao squirm above him, and with a few squelching noises pulled his hand free.  After wiping his hand off on his discarded pants, he reached for _them._   He made quick work of the condom, slipping it expertly over Shintarou.  Pouring a generous amount of lubricant he oiled them both up, giving them a few firm tugs before rising up on his haunches to settle himself above Shintarou’s cock.

Takao reached back to steady Shintarou’s penis, rubbing it teasingly against his puckered hole.  Even as he gasped with pleasure, nearly lost in the strange yet wonderful sensations, Shintarou spared a thought as to the impossibility of fitting inside him.  Yet the next moment proved him wrong.  Takao lowered himself with a grimace, sinking down onto his thick cock, breathing slowly and heavily all the while.  It took him a minute or two to take all of him in, and by the time he was fully seated on Shintarou’s lap, sweat had broken out at his temples, and Shintarou was halfway to madness. 

“You’re bigger than my fingers,”  Takao admitted with a wince, holding himself perfectly still. 

Shintarou groaned, biting his lip nearly through to keep from thrusting up as fast and as hard as he could and never, ever stopping.  Then, he heard his voice as if from far away, speaking without direction as every other particle of his being was focused on staying still while inside of Takao.  “You...practiced such a thing?”

            Takao took a deep breath before responding, flexing his hips experimentally.  The pain seemed to be receding, as his grimace turned to his signature grin.  “I thought of you while doing it, too.  I did it when I thought about you taking me just like this in the clubroom after school...and of doing me in the showers...and of you fucking me hard on our beds…”

            _“Takao.”_ Shintarou whispered his name reverently, before rocking his hips upward.  He could take it no longer.  His cock was throbbing from the heat and the pressure and the slickness, and more than that, he was encased in _Takao._ Forcing his body to keep still when it was faced with such physical and emotional provocation was impossible.  So with the last shreds of his logical mind, he started slowly, flexed his hips as gently as he could, nudging shallowly into his friend.  Above him Takao gasped, and his clutch on Shintarou’s shoulders was strong enough to leave bruises.  Terrified of hurting him, Shintarou stopped, straining his poor vision to read the pain on Takao’s face.  “Takao, I’m sorry - we don’t have to do this - I can stop, should we…?”

            “Shin-chan.  Shut _up.”_ Takao ground out, pushing Shintarou back onto the bed.  The change in angle made Shintarou thrust automatically, and perhaps Takao was getting used to the intrusion, as rather than wincing, he moaned.  Then, he reached forward to entwine their fingers together, and rocked against him, taking control and sending Shintarou’s mind spinning.  He built up a steady rhythm atop him, which increased its speed as he grew used to the organ inside of him.  Below him, Shintarou could only gasp and groan, fighting against the urge to take Takao himself.  The point guard had dreamed of such things, hadn’t he?  Of Shintarou fucking him wildly, without abandon and in a variety of inappropriate locations...the remembrance of Takao saying all this with that glint of mischievousness in his eye made Shintarou’s cock throb, and he had to take deep breaths in order not to come too quickly.  Yet it was impossible not to think of Takao when he was writhing on top of him; his sharp eyes closed in concentration, his face slack with pleasure, lines of sweat running down his body… Acting on impulse, Shintarou pushed himself up so that he could kiss Takao, suddenly needing to be close to him even if it brought about his climax.  Takao had wondered how he had been so lucky to have won Shintarou, but truthfully, Shintarou felt the exact same way.  Takao had long been his gift, and that he loved him back so unreservedly was nothing short of a miracle.  That they were together now, engaged in the most intimate act Shintarou could envision...well.  He knew precisely what he wanted to say, even if it was impossible to admit.

            Yet was it impossible?  They were making love in earnest now, Takao’s hips pulsing heavily against his, his legs wrapped around him to gain purchase.  Familiar pleasure was spiralling within him and he knew he would not last much longer.  Perhaps he would find the courage to admit his feelings when he came.  Suddenly eager to test this theory, Shintarou began moving as well, matching Takao’s rhythm. His movement caused Takao to gasp against his lips, clearly overcome.  His dick throbbed about Shintarou’s belly, smearing precum against his abdomen. Shintarou didn’t know if Takao was as close to coming as he was, but he could wait no longer.  Fire was settling in his belly, and in mere moments he was going to break apart.  So on the heels of several deep thrusts that made Takao gasp, Shintarou pulled his lips away from his love’s, and murmured in his ear as he came.

“ _Love you-”_

Sense left him as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him shuddering in its wake.  It was so consuming that it took him several long moments to realize that Takao’s arching above him and crying out in pleasure - not to mention the sudden bursts of wet heat landing on his stomach - denoted that his love had miraculously come as well.  The two men clung to each other, shivering in the afterglow, with Takao laying distracted kisses upon Shintarou’s face, and he trying to return the favor. They only shifted when Shintarou shrank inside of him, and carefully pulling himself out, he threw the condom - with his impeccable aim - into Takao’s trash can.  Then, Takao laid him out on the bed, pulling him into his arms so that they could drift together in their bliss.

As they lay together Takao spoke to him, telling him things that alternately made his ears burn and that he would never forget: the story of his feelings and his efforts to make his Shin-chan notice him, and of all the miscommunications they had suffered through.  His devotion through the last few years thawed Shintarou’s reserve so that he found himself awkwardly relaying much of what he had told Kuroko,  inadvertently instigating their second time having sex ( _I know I told you that we’d switch but just for now I need you again, Shin-chan. Oh fuck, I love you so much.  We’ll work that out, I promise-)._          

            It was only as they lay together after their second round did Shintarou begin to think clearly, and finally question some of the finer points of Takao’s confession. “Takao.  What did you mean when you referenced an alliance with Akashi?”

            His love sat bolt upright on the bed, panicked enough to ignore the pain in his bottom.  “ _Ohholyfuckingshitmonsters!”_ He scrambled off the bed, jumping into his pants before throwing Shintarou’s at him, hitting him squarely in the face. 

            “ _Takao!”_

_“_ No time, Shin-chan!  We left Akashi with your family!  Oh god, oh god - I can’t believe I forgot about him!”

            “What are you _talking_ about…?”

            Fully dressed, Takao began assisting Shintarou, who was justifiably grumpy (in his opinion) at being rushed from the afterglow.  “It was part of the plan to get you out of the house...he um.  Well.  He proposed to Miki-chan.”

            Shintarou stilled.The absurdity of Akashi proposing marriage to a three-year-old was wiped away by the terror of being related to him, and he found himself dressing with the same sense of urgency.  “Sweet Oha Asa.  Miki is too young to have developed appropriate taste in men...nor to understand what such a gesture would entail.  And to have left her in his clutches for so long?  What if she has accepted him?”

            Takao grimaced.  “Right.  Yes.  We’d best head over and make sure she hasn’t.”

            Shintarou completely missed the way his eyes slide sideways, signifying his guilt.  Instead, he leaned down to place a hesitant kiss on his partner’s forehead, still embarrassed enough to blush a little.  At Takao’s questioning glance, he felt his face heat further, yet he was able to force out his thoughts.  “Thank you, Takao.  You...you have made me very happy.  I would like for us to have the chance to continue this trend in the future.”  He swallowed nervously. “I will do all that I can to ensure it.”

            Takao’s eyes were wide and glimmery with emotion.  “Shin-chan?  We need to get to your house right now.”

            Shintarou frowned at the lackluster reply to his confession.  “May I ask why?”

            “Because otherwise I will jump you again, and we will be going nowhere for the rest of _our lives_.”

            “Good point.  Let’s go, Takao…”

…

…

…

…

...

- _Elsewhere in Tokyo-_

Taiga looked up at the setting sun and tried not to panic.  True to his word, he’d kept to the basketball court where they’d met all day, packing three lunches just so he’d have no reason to leave and potentially miss Kuroko.  Yet Kuroko hadn’t come.  Neither had he called, texted, or sent Ahomine out to beat his ass down to a pulp, and at this point Taiga had no idea whether any of those things were good or bad.  The only one he _had_ heard from all day was Alex, who had called early this morning to finally apologize for goading Tatsuya into kissing him.  _It was just to make you get a move on, Tai,_  she’d said, dodging the responsibility for the weeks of awkwardness that had followed.  _Your ghost is pretty cute, and someone’s going to snatch him up if you don’t.  Honestly.  Buck up, buttercup!_

His mistake weighing guiltily on his conscience, he knew she wasn’t truly at fault.  _He_ was, and she’d heartily agreed when he’d told her what had happened last night.  _My god, Taiga.  You are the biggest idiot I have ever met in my life.  I always thought you’d end up ok but I’m pretty sure happy endings require at least a basic amount of intelligence.  Saints in a row, your life is a soap opera.  I cannot deal with this.  I’ll call you back tomorrow._

Matters were serious when even Alex couldn’t stand to talk to him.  If his first coach couldn’t handle him, why on earth should Kuroko want to?  Taiga stood abruptly, reaching for the basketball and dribbling it hard to clear his mind.  He couldn’t defeat himself yet, even if he’d been out here all day with no sign of Kuroko, and no reason for hope.  He had to believe in his partner, and that even if his chance for a happy ending was over, their basketball relationship wouldn’t be. 

He’d known all day that there was a large chance Kuroko wouldn’t come out to meet him, even so he was prepared to wait.  Honestly, he felt like he could wait forever, just for a chance at fixing things.  All his life people had left him, and by now he suspected it wasn’t really his fault.  This was, and for that reason he’d do anything to make it right. 

( _Besides, he didn’t think he knew how to move on from Kuroko.  And even if he somehow managed to, all his future interests would be small, tenacious, blue-eyed bastards that would tease him mercilessly, pop up at the most unexpected times and places, and have an overriding passion for - well, something.  Anything.  Or he would just stay infatuated with Kuroko for his entire damn life.)_

Taiga fell into ball-handling drills in order to keep himself from further obsessing over the aspects of his partner that had made him...even now it was hard to think it.  Yet if he couldn’t admit it to himself, how was he possibly going to get past this?  Taking a deep breath, Taiga let the ball rest against his hip and steeled himself.  _Love._   He was in love with Kuroko, and even though the concept made his heart shrivel in the fear of being broken, he was done running from the truth.  And the next time he saw Kuroko  ( _even if it meant staking out his house, or something, but hopefully he’d be able to catch him at school or in the locker room, as Taiga really didn’t want to deal with the Japanese police force_ ) he was going to admit that he loved him as much as the day was long, or however the Japanese might say it ( _something about the moon, he was pretty sure.  Argh, this would be so much easier to say in English)_ and-

“Kagami-kun!”

Taiga’s head whipped around, and his heart went wild within his chest.  Racing across the court was Kuroko, who, having gained Taiga’s attention, showed no sign of stopping.  Instead, there was just enough time for Taiga to brace himself before Kuroko jumped into his arms.  Taiga staggered backwards, more from the shock of Kuroko’s action than the force of his leap.  “Wha-Kuroko?!  I-”

“Shut up, Kagami-kun.”  There was a feverish look in Kuroko’s eyes that made Taiga’s mouth run dry.  Before he could do anything other than obey Kuroko’s command, he placed his pale hands on either side of Taiga’s face, relying on Taiga’s strength (and his legs that wrapped around Taiga’s waist) to hold him up. “Or rather, tell me that you love me.  You have twenty seconds, starting now.”

His resolve, gratitude, and shock mixed together and made him incapable of evading the question.  _It was like ripping off a bandaid,_ he told himself. _And don’t fuck this up._   “Uh...the moon is...round tonight?” 

Kuroko’s thumbs tightened momentarily against his cheeks, and for a moment Taiga thought that just maybe he’d gotten the phrasing right.  Yet then Kuroko narrowed his eyes and breathed heavily.  “Try again, Kagami-kun.  Do it in English if you have to.”

Taiga stared back at him, shaken by the suddenness of the moment, and by the strength of Kuroko’s sentiment.  He had just run the length of the basketball court and launched himself into his arms, and while that wasn’t normal for just about anyone, it was especially out of character for Kuroko. While Taiga _had_ seen him shake with emotion on a few other occasions, they’d all been on the court, never for something like this.  That had to mean something.  Coupled with last night’s kiss, Taiga hoped it meant something good.  So with a heart pounding so quickly Taiga half thought he was having a heart attack, he swallowed thickly, and found the courage to confess.  “I lo-lo... _Iloveyou.”_

Kuroko’s smile dawned like the sun.  “Yes, you do,” he whispered breathlessly, before leaning in and kissing him firmly. 

Everything froze - Taiga’s head, his heart...and for all he knew, the world as well.  Yet then the warmth of Kuroko’s lips persuaded him that this was real, and not some sort of delusion from jumping and hitting his head on the hoop’s rim (again.) Unsure of what was going on nor what had allowed this miracle to take place, Taiga decided to let all his confusion and insecurity go, knowing he would figure it out eventually.  He kissed him back, cautiously at first, but soon enough he was swept along in Kuroko’s pace, and before long they were kissing passionately. 

Taiga was completely fine with continuing until either the strength in his arms gave out or disgusted viewers began throwing basketballs at them (this was a public court, after all)but Kuroko had other ideas.  When the kiss had progressed to the point where they were vibrating with excitement, he pulled away, taking in little, gasping breaths.  “This is the part where you take me home, Kagami-kun, otherwise I will be corrupting your virtue in public, very likely with schoolchildren in attendance.  Unless, of course, this excites you.  Then we may stay.”

Taiga’s cheeks were crimson, and he doubted he could flush any harder if he tried.  “You little bastard.  I would not enjoy that at all!”

Kuroko leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on his light’s mouth.  “Then you should take me home immediately, Kagami-kun, else I will be too impatient to wait…”

The thought of Kuroko wanting him so badly  - let alone wanting him at all - made him so happy he couldn’t offer up even a weak protest.  He tried his best to swallow his smile, and it left him looking like a deranged buccaneer.  “I - you!  Yeah.  Let’s get home.”

Kuroko kissed him once more before shimmying back down to the ground.  Then he grabbed his hand and barely waited long enough for Taiga to retrieve his bag before they raced off towards Taiga’s home.  Taiga wasn’t sure whether madness or love was the primary force pushing them forward, but at this point he didn’t care.  Through some miracle, Kuroko had come back to him, and at this point he would ask for nothing more.

...

...

...

...

...

Ever since Aomine and Kagami had entered it, Tetsuya had wondered what the Zone was like.  Stumbling into Kagami-kun's apartment, too distracted with the need to touch each other to pay even the barest amount of attention their surroundings, he suspected he now knew.  The world had shrunk to encompass only Kagami, and the rampant desire to kiss him, love him, and if he was honest with himself, dominate him.  Everything else bled into the background, indistinct and unimportant.  He was transfixed by the flex of Kagami's muscles underneath his fingers, the taste of his thin lips, the faint smell of his sweat after playing basketball all day...it was sensory overload of the sweetest kind, and had he not been fantasizing about just this situation for years, he might have been overcome.

Breaking apart momentarily to allow his partner to open the door, Tetsuya lurched up on his toes to press their lips together before Kagami could close the door behind them.  The action made his light hum appreciatively, and large hands squeeze his hips.  Clearly, Tetsuya's fears that Kagami wouldn't be sexually attracted to him were ridiculous.  Kagami gripped him desperately, as if he was afraid Tetsuya would leave him.  Judging by what he had learned today, he was almost certain this was the case. Yet Kagami's tentative kiss drove those memories away, and he dedicated himself to driving his partner wild through naughty kisses, each succulent pull of their lips an enticement to break down Kagami's self-imposed boundaries.  The heat between them rose as Kagami haltingly reciprocated, facing the unknown with his brash courage.  Encouraged by his partner's response, Tetsuya pressed himself up further so his tongue could lick at the seam of Kagami's lips, dipping in to taste him when he opened his mouth in surprise.  He twined his tongue around Kagami’s in a teasing gesture, inviting him to indulge himself.  After several long moments of cautious exploration his light did exactly that, and before long the two boys were kissing hungrily with lips, teeth, and tongue.

After a particularly daring slide of Kagami's tongue, Tetsuya could take it no longer.  His erection was rubbing uncomfortably against the front of his jeans, and when he pressed his body against Kagami's, he could tell his love felt the same.  Realizing that this was the opportunity to realize his most potent sexual fantasy, Tetsuya fell back to his heels, causing Kagami to lurch forward comically.  Swallowing his grin at his partner's surprise, he took his hand and pulled him into his bedroom, pushing him back until Kagami sat on his bed. 

Looking down at him, Tetsuya had to take a deep breath before he could continue.  For one thing, this was the exact pose they had been in during their first kiss, when Kagami had so spectacularly put his foot in his mouth, as he would say.  The memory made him arch an eyebrow, and Kagami knew exactly what it meant.

"I-about that time...I didn't meant I didn't like your kiss, I was just afraid...well.  I was afraid you'd know how much I liked it."

Kagami was blushing beet red, as if admitting _that_ was more embarrassing than what they were currently doing.  His honesty lightened Tetsuya's heart, and the last -and smallest- of his reservations evaporated.  "I suspected as much, Kagami-kun.  Yet perhaps now is not the time for reminiscing.  I would much rather disrobe you, if that is quite all right."  Asking was a courtesy.  Tetsuya was fully prepared to have him naked even if he had to tie him to the bed ( _and oh, he rather liked the sound of_ that) but it really would go much more smoothly if Kagami was at least marginally willing.

"Je-Jesus, Kuroko! Fine, but only if y-you do it too."

Tetsuya could help but smile noticeably, and Kagami's eyes widened at the sight of it.  "Of course, Kagami-kun." He reached for the top button on Kagami-kun's dress shirt ( _and Tetsuya had never seen Kagami-kun in anything other than their school uniform, their team uniform, and black t-shirts - had he really dressed up? For him? Oh, he loved Kagami-kun very, very much that adorable, awkward American man)_ assisting his partner with every other button.  By the time the power forward realized he was still the only one getting undressed, Tetsuya had knelt to unzip his pants.

"Hey, wait- I thought we were both-"

"Later, Kagami-kun.  I promise." Tetsuya answered him distractedly, enthralled by his partner's sizable erection.  Sizable was perhaps not the word - enormous would be much more accurate.  Tetsuya thought it a wonder that he hadn't burst from his pants, in all honesty.  And in just a few more moments, _that_ would be inside his mouth.

Tetsuya shivered as his arousal throbbed appreciatively.  He hadn't come for days, and he was dangerously close to his limit.  But he had dreamt of this for too long, now, and he could deny himself no longer.  So he yanked at his partner's jeans, smiling when Kagami lifted his hips immediately. With a few deft movements, Kagami’s cock sprang free, flushed with blood and utterly delectable.  Kagami himself was also flushing, eyes wide as he bit his lip. 

"Kuroko, what are you doi-ahh!"

Tetsuya answered him not with words, but with a teasing lick to the crown of his penis.  As expected of his innocent yet American partner, the crown was moist with precum, the taste salty on Tetsuya's tongue.  Kagami moaned again when Tetsuya kissed it lingeringly, and ground his name out roughly when Tetsuya gave it a hard suck.

"Nnngh- Kuroko!"

Tetsuya pulled back, laying sweet little kisses on his tip.  Coyly, he glanced up, taking in his love's expression of helpless arousal.  "Yes, Kagami-kun? Would you like me to stop?"

Before his light could respond, however, he took him into his mouth, lips stretching down around him until he could take no more.  Kagami fisted his sheets, clearly fighting the urge to thrust deep.  He gasped for air before finally responding to Tetsuya’s inquiry.  "If you don't wanna'- _oh goddamn, Kuroko!"_

Tetsuya had cut him off by humming around him, the vibrations massaging Kagami's rigid flesh. Pulling back, he swirled circles on the tip with his tongue before pulling off again.  "I have wanted to do this for you for a long time, Kagami-kun.  Unless you have a particular objection, I would suggest you lie back and think of Japan."

"Isn't it England? _Oh god_ -" 

Tetsuya dove back in, practically swallowing Kagami's rod in his excitement.  Now that he had a basic acquaintance with the size, scent, and taste of Kagami- _kun_ , he wanted to render his light unable to speak.  He suckled his partner as best he could, using all the illicit advice he'd learned from a few highly informative internet sessions.  Sucking hard for appropriate suction, he dragged his lips down Kagami's cock, able to take more with each pass. Yet every time he'd pull back, he'd swipe his tongue over the head, learning the curvature of the head, and making the man in the bed pant in pleasure.  Soon Tetsuya had established a rhythm that made his partner breathless, and his own mind hazy with lust.  Yet it wasn't until he deviated from that rhythm to lick the tip of Kagami's dick like a lollipop that he discovered the power he held over his partner.  In between luscious kisses, he blew warm air over the head, and it was this that drove Kagami over the brink.

The power forward shook and moaned, fingernails digging into his palms to keep from forcing Tetsuya's mouth against him until his nose was flush with his belly.  Tetsuya smirked, empowered and deeply aroused.  "Now, now, Kagami-kun.  You seem so excited... I thought you were thinking of Japan?"

" 'M thinking of you," he ground out from between clenched teeth.  "And I can't hold on much longer, so maybe you should use your hand now."

_Oh, Kagami-kun._   Such a gentleman.  Little did he know that such behavior merely served to excite him further.  Tetsuya redoubled his efforts, forsaking subtlety ( _there would be plenty of time to enjoy his love in the future, he was sure of it)_ in an effort to draw Kagami's orgasm.  His head bobbed rapidly, drawing moans from him as well as Kagami. 

"Kuroko! You gotta- I'm gonna' come!"

His Japanese was thickly accented, a testament to his arousal.  Tetsuya's own arousal was proven when he took in as much cock as he could take, heart beating anxiously for the inevitable.  He was rewarded moments later when his love came with a yell, and hot cum gushed down his throat.  Tetsuya swallowed reflexively, at once worried about the size of Kagami's emission, and the painful throbbing of his own erection.  Yet here was the realization of half his wet dreams, and although somewhat difficult (as Kagami was _still_ coming) it was incredibly sexy, and no part of it was disgusting. 

When Kagami stilled above him and in his mouth, Tetsuya leaned back cautiously, gauging the odd feeling in his stomach with the pulse between his legs.  For the first time since he began, Kagami reached down to touch him, carding his fingers gently through Tetsuya's hair.  "You were...that was... Oh god that was amazing. _You_ are amazing.  I love you.  I really- _Jesus,_ Kuroko!"

Tetsuya's tongue swept out to wash away the remains of his liquid excitement before he answered.  "And I, you, Kagami-kun.  I look forward to many more declarations of love, as well as hours spent honing our skills in bed.  But for now, could I possibly borrow your hand? I find myself in desperate need of your assistance."  It certainly wasn't as suave as he would have liked, but his arousal was pulsing and it was very difficult to think.  It would be easier when Kagami helped him take the edge off, and they could discuss all that had happened between them.

Kagami pulled him up so that he could sit next to him in the bed.  Wordlessly, he pulled off Tetsuya's shirt, yet when he was barechested Kagami laid a hand low on his stomach and halted.  "Would it-" he began, tracing a nervous pattern up to Kuroko's sternum, "I mean, you don't have to, but would it be disgusting to, um.  Borrow something else instead?"

Tetsuya's heart leapt along with his erection.  "Are you offering to lend me your mouth?"

Kagami was practically fidgeting now, color staining his cheeks.  His arousal twitched back to life and Tetsuya regarded it appreciatively.  Of course Kagami would have a refraction time of less than a minute.  Of course.  "Well yeah.  That, or..."

He wiggled his hips and Tetsuya finally got the picture.  Kagami was _offering_ himself to him?  To be the bottom in a sexual rendezvous?  The offer nearly made him come in his pants, and he had to take several deep breaths before responding. 

"Unless you think it would be disgusting! Then forget I said anything!"

With lidded eyes, Tetsuya pushed him back down onto the bed so that he could loom over him.  "Oh no, Kagami-kun.  That is not disgusting at _all."_

...

...

...

...

...

He was insane.  It was official.  The only thing he could muster in his defense was that he had just come unspeakably hard, and would likely be seeing stars for weeks.  In fact, those stars had probably taken up residence in his brain, seeing as how he had just made that crazy offer.  Yet then Kuroko had straddled him, and was currently looking at him like he wanted to straight up devour him, and Taiga’s fears melted away.  Perhaps his offer wasn’t so crazy if it could make Kuroko look like _that._

“As long as it is fine with you, I would _love_ to.  Except…”  Kuroko’s mouth twisted in a way that might be annoyingly coy on anyone else but was heart-stoppingly adorably on him.  Taiga’s breath caught in his throat as his shadow leaned back, resting on his thighs.  “My research did not exactly extend that far.  I had not expected such an offer.  So, perhaps for now - unless you know how to...prepare yourself?”

Taiga had to swallow twice before he could bully himself into answering.  Out of all the things he had admitted today, this was by no means the hardest, but it was probably the most embarassing.  “I, um.  Yeah.  Actually.  I kinda’ do.”

“ _Oh?”_  Kuroko’s eyes heated, and it was enough to convince Taiga.  His eyes shot down to the junction of their bodies, gauging the size of Kuroko’s bulge and whether it might be longer than his fingers.  He found his courage when Kuroko leaned back further, brushing up against Taiga’s revived erection.  “Yeah.  Just let me grab the stuff.”

‘The stuff’ was lubricant that he had bought off an English site with his paypal account just so his search history and purchase couldn’t be easily stumbled upon and discovered.  The condoms had come as a present from his father, who on his last visit had found one of Alex’s ‘missing bras.’  Yet that had nothing to do with Kuroko, kneeling at the foot of Taiga’s bed as he slowly undid his pants, and so he banished such thoughts.  They wouldn’t help him when he prepared himself right in front of Kuroko, anyway. 

He kissed Kuroko once more for courage before beginning, shivering when he realized the odd taste on Kuroko’s tongue was himself.  Remembering what his shadow had done for him made leaning back and spreading his legs easier, although he still fumbled with the cap on the lube before he was able to pour the an overlarge amount onto his hand.  Taking one last deep breath, he crunched forward, reaching down past his cock to the puckered hole below it, gently circling it with several fingers. 

Kuroko made a strangled noise, and Taiga’s eyes shot up, nerves stretched tight with embarrassment and fear.  “If it’s gross, just say so, yeah?  I’ll stop and we can do something else-”

Kuroko’s lips thinned as he rolled on the condom, fighting for control.  “Do _not_ stop, Kagami-kun.  I will be incredibly upset if you do.”

            _Well that settles that,_ Taiga thought fuzzily, and finally realizing that Kuroko wanted this at least as much as he did, spread his legs even farther so that his partner might have a better view.  This didn’t stop him from blushing, nor his mind from spinning dizzily, but it was enough to embolden him to crook two fingers inside of himself.  The familiar burn soon gave way into anticipatory heat as he worked himself loose, scissoring with his fingers to ease the way for Kuroko.  Taiga’s eyes flicked between his partner’s hand, slowly pulling at his own arousal, and his gaze, fixed firmly on Taiga’s efforts down below.  The hunger in his stare was the last blow to his timidity, and so feeling a little foolish but more than sexy enough to make up for it, Taiga removed his fingers and wiggled his hips in an invitation.  “C’mere, Kuroko.”

            Later, Taiga would reflect on the absurdity of the moment, of David topping Goliath, and what others might say.  Yet all he could think of then was how amazing it felt when Kuroko crawled on top of him, warm and strong and soft in his arms; and how shamefully exciting it was to feel him position his cock against his entrance, and how his heart felt far too full when Kuroko exhaled _I love you_ just as he pushed in.  Then there was pain - sharp yet fleeting, as his body adjusted to Kuroko’s length and width, but more so there was Kuroko’s closed eyes and expression of pained bliss, and his quiet yet heavy breathing as he held himself still inside of him. 

            At that moment Taiga knew he would give Kuroko anything, as long as he would always be there with him.  So even though he was still uncomfortably stretched and the condom rubbed against him somewhat unpleasantly, he shifted his hips forward, prompting his love to move.  He brought his clean hand up to Kuroko’s shoulders, half propping him up and half hugging him. Kuroko finally took the hint and began thrusting slowly and solidly, breath hitching with every push.  Taiga closed his eyes, overwhelmed with the sensation in both his body and his heart, and unsure which was stronger.  Would love always be like this? Heart full like a cup overflowing, and a body charged with a strange electricity?  It was too much for his love-starved psyche, and Taiga had to bite back tears.  Maybe later he’d allow himself to cry, but certainly not when Kuroko was inside of him - he’d get the wrong idea.

            _“Kagami-kun._ ”  Kuroko groaned out his name as he rocked harder, and the pain was now just pressure, and when he jerked like that, he brushed against something that made Taiga see white spots dance on the insides of his eyelids.  “I’m so glad I met you.  I’m so glad you love me.  I’m even glad that I waited, just to have this moment with you.”

            Kuroko was hitting that spot with admirable regularity, and Taiga could barely think beyond the pleasure that arced like lightning throughout his body.  Yet Kuroko _never_ spoke like this, nor this much, and Taiga forced himself to listen.

            “I love you so much.  I will - _oh! -_ I will _always_ love you, and I will never, _ever_ leave you, and-”  His pace was increasing, and sucked an inhale in through his teeth before he continued, hips thrusting harder all the while.  “You’re mine forever, Kagami-kun.  My shadow.  My heart.  Do you understand?”

            Taiga understood many things in that moment.  He understood that he had been forgiven, and that all his wildest dreams had just come true.  And that somehow, inexplicably, Kuroko was trying to reassure him that what happened with his parents would not be mirrored here.  He also understood that even though he was the one being taken, he was just as in control as Kuroko was, and felt unexpectedly powerful.  Yet most of all he understood that love was love, and that it was here with them, shaping them into pieces that fit together just like this, and that as long as they kept working at it, they would only fit better with time.  So he crunched forward to kiss him, mumbling his love in return.  “Love you too.  Love you so much.  Won’t leave you.  Won’t let you, either.  So just keep going, _please.”_

“ _Kagami-kun-”_ Kuroko whispered as he braced himself, hips pistoning desperately.  He was close now, Taiga thought fuzzily, and that was excellent as he was as well, even though the only pressure on his cock was that of Kuroko’s stomach occasionally rubbing against it.  Yet Kuroko kept hitting his prostate, and the sensation was so intense Taiga worried that the orgasm might actually rip him apart. 

            He was proven wrong when he came a moment later, back arching off the bed and a strangled shout leaving his lips.  It surprised Kuroko, who lost his rhythm due to the strength of Taiga’s climax.  Taiga was completely unaware of this, however, lost amidst the sexual fire in his body.  Even though he had already climaxed that _spot_ kept the pleasure spiking through his body, keeping him adrift in this miraculous sensation.  It was so all-consuming that he almost didn’t notice when Kuroko came, stiffening and groaning out his name.  Yet he had calmed down enough to see when his partner shuddered against him, clutching onto him even as he thrust deeply one last time.  He had even recovered himself well enough to hold Kuroko as he drifted down from euphoria, every bit as overcome as Taiga had been. 

            Taiga held him for a long time, smoothing his fingers over his back and through his hair, unable to think of anything more complex than _I’m happy_ and _I want more_ and _I love him._ Eventually, Kuroko picked his head up from where it had rested on his chest, and Taiga smiled down at him, aware that he looked like an idiot but not caring in the slightest. 

            “Are you all right, Kagami-kun?”

            Answering Kuroko’s question required him to leave behind the mind-sapping effects of his afterglow.  “Of course I am, knucklehead.  I should be asking _you_ that, seeing as how your endurance is so low.”

            Kuroko was too tired to hold his pout, and that made Taiga’s smile even wider.  Kuroko was so damn cute, with his terrible stamina, and the way dumb things could get him all huffy.  But then Kuroko’s pout curved into a little smile, and Taiga knew the tables were about to turn.  “Perhaps you are right, Kagami-kun.  I feel distinctly weak.  I am currently far too exhausted to move.  This is a pity, as I am still inside of you.”

            Taiga rolled his eyes before rolling the boy on top of him to the side. He winced as Kuroko slipped out of him ( _it wasn’t a testament to his size, or anything, he’d just been too embarrassed to touch himself there more than two or three times.  It would get better with practice, he was sure of it)_ yet before he could attempt to remove the condom, Kuroko reached down to do it for him, and throw it - _pass it would probably be more accurate,_ Taiga thought - into the trash.

            Then there was nothing to do but take his love into his arms, holding him tighter than was probably comfortable, but Kuroko didn’t complain for a long time.  Eventually Taiga felt the need to explain bubbling up inside of him, assisted by the odd feeling he’d had earlier that Kuroko was trying to assure him that _his_ love wasn’t like the others.  So he began his bumbling explanation, trying to explain why the concept of love scared him shitless, but Kuroko stopped him with a firm kiss before he could get too far.  _I already know, Kagami-kun.  Alex-san told me all.  Why do you think it took me so long to get to you?_

This was enough to make him forgive all Alex's stolen kisses, and every moment of mortification she had ever put him through.  Even Tatsuya's kiss could be forgiven, in light of this. 

            "She also explained Himuro-san's role in her plan, and as such I have partially forgiven him.  Still, I shall be vigilant.  As should you, Kagami-kun."

            Kuroko's statement probably shouldn't make him tingle, seeing as how it involved the two guys he loved most in the world, yet it did.  That his partner loved him enough to be possessive and even jealous made him glow.  "Yeah I don't think he'll be coming back for more, if that's what you mean.  But I wouldn't let him anyway...'cuz I got you, right?"

            Kuroko wiggled until he could pull his head back far enough to fix Taiga with his most serious expression.  It was slightly undermined by the aura of contentment that settled around them like a blanket, however.  "You most certainly do, Kagami-kun.  There is no escape for you now.  You will have to be content with this happy ending, I fear."  He nuzzled close, leaving a lingering kiss on the underside of Taiga's jaw.  The effect on his libido was considerable.  "We will, however, have to work on your fear of dogs.  Nigou will be most upset if you do not occasionally play with him."

            _Oh, damnit.  He had forgotten about the dog._ Taiga winced as he slipped his hands lower so they circled Kuroko's rump, hoping to make him forget all about the discussion of dogs.  "We'll see," he muttered in a noncommittal aside, yet both knew it was complete and utter capitulation.  Taiga was, as always, like putty in Kuroko's hands, although currently Taiga was thinking seriously about attempting a reversal.  After all, Kuroko had done just about all the work their first round, and there was a thing or two that he had long wanted to try...

            Dogs were forgotten for several delicious hours, as well as anything unrelated to their immediate needs.  The world would wait for them, yet they would not wait for love.

...

...

...

...

...

            Back at the Midorima's house, forgotten by his friends and cohort, Akashi spoke seriously to Midorima Miki.  "You're being an excellent sport about all this, darling.  We're going to have to wait for several years before anything can proceed - I'm simply in no position to settle down."

            The youngest Midorima gurgled happily as he bounced her gently on his lap. 

            "I'm so glad you agree.  And you're quite right - we'll have to bring our families together before we do.  Although I think your new Uncle Kazunari would be helpful in that arena.  He seems to bring people together."

            Saori, who had been elected chaperone while her parents took an alcohol induced nap, smirked.  Miki did not notice this, choosing to gnaw on his shoulder instead.

            "Restrain your passion, darling!  Your sister is present.  We must wait until we are _alone."_

Miki pulled back to gurgle at him, in a definitively questioning tone.

            "An excellent question, dearest.  I would suspect Shintarou is currently undertaking an advanced course in bedroom gymnastics, although it would be best to question no further.  There is a lady present, you see."

            The toddler smiled and nodded, as if she understood every aspect of her fiancee's observation.  Saori, who did, smirked once again into her palm, completely understanding and agreeing with her brother's demand that she never - _ever_ \- date any of his friends. In retrospect, he had probably been speaking of Takao at the time, but she saw every reason to include Akashi as well. 

            Akashi noticed none of this, choosing to focus on the young lady on his lap, who had just patted him firmly on the chest with two tiny hands.  This was followed by inarticulate demands for leaves, bugs, and sky, denoting an evident desire to go and play outside.  He smiled indulgently before hoisting the tot up higher so he could stand and carry her to the proverbial sandbox. "You’re quite right, Miki-chan. It is now time to enjoy the great outdoors.”

            Miki crowed delightedly before glancing back at her older sister and asked in polite toddler babble whether or not she would continue attending them outside.  At Saori’s insistence that she would rather play through Bartok’s _Mikrokosmos_ for solo piano, Akashi turned and gave her a solemn wink.

            “Your sister is a wise woman, dearest.  She knows, I believe, that as long as you know just where to end the story, happy endings abound.  Now, the backyard calls us.  What shall we play first?”

It was a rather odd story, Saori concluded, watching her little sister command her husband-to-be to assume the role of her noble steed.  Yet as far as happy endings went, she couldn’t complain.  That in mind, she approached the piano, smiling at the happy notion that love had in this instance conquered all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the most smut I’ve written since my days writing romantic comedy in the Soul Eater fandom, and I see why it’s taken me so long to come back to it. Buck up buttercup indeed.  
> …  
> I’d like to thank everyone who stuck around and enjoyed this. Your comments made my day(s), and made me churn this out a lot faster. I didn’t think this would go over very well, and I’m happy to be proven wrong. Also, huge thanks to whomever put this up on tumblr! I’m honored :)

**Author's Note:**

> I think I have a chronic condition where all I want to do is write about men making drunken kisses at parties. I think it’s called Springtime. Send help, preferably in the form of a Man After Midnight. Oh god. I’m so done with me.


End file.
